Fire Emblem Awakening - Reign of the Mad King
by Astral Miracle
Summary: An exalt, haunted by her father's legacy, seeks to bring peace to the world. A king, blind with hatred, would bring war upon his own people in the wake of his vengeance. A noble prince, desperate to protect his family, faces any challenge with his head held high, no matter the odds. In the chaos that follows, Robin the tactician must find his own path, even without his memories.
1. Foreword

**Foreword**

Let me begin by saying I am not fond of the convention of including an author's note at the beginning or end of each chapter. I know I personally scroll past them, since I feel it messes with immersion, and the teasers that some authors love including, or the conversations with commenters and reviewers feel a bit tacky to me. Still, each to his or her own. Some authors also use their notes to indicate when updates can be expected, but I don't believe that will be necessary. This entire story has already been written, and I'm simply editing it as I post it. _Feel free to skip through this foreword, as it's not necessary to the story at all. It's more or less just an extended author's note._

This story is essentially a retelling of the events of Fire Emblem: Awakening. The story, like the game, is divided into three primary arcs, each of will be posted separately. Because it is meant to be a retelling, practically every key point in Fire Emblem: Awakening will be spoiled. Also, as the lore from FE:A ties into other games in the series, minor plot points from other games in the series may be spoiled as well.

I have tried to remain true to the main story itself. However, to help the story's cohesion, and to expand upon certain elements that I felt weren't really fleshed out properly by the game, there will be some deviations. In particular, there is some emphasis on re-characterization. Unfortunately, with a cast as large as the game had, it's not easy to make characters memorable, and in many cases, the game did so by making the characters extra quirky. It gives the entire game a lighthearted feel despite the otherwise darker story, which I feel contrasts kind of poorly. It also makes some of the characters seem utterly one dimensional. I will go into further detail on this later for those who have played FE:A, but for those who haven't, the important thing to note is that the characters will not be portrayed exactly as they are in the game.

Nor is this a self-insert story. In the game, Robin himself is practically a self-insert, as he is made rather generic intentionally, and the player can customize his appearance, or even elect to play as a female character. He does have some glimpses of character, and several more instances in the optional support conversations, but it's not always consistent. Since so much of the story revolves around him, I have tried to give him his own personality, although it is not meant to be overblown. He's a fairly normal young adult with a few exceptional gifts, a strong work ethic, and a stronger sense of loyalty to those he cares about. I've used his default appearance with only a few minor adjustments.

Because of the slight changes in personality (mostly to tone down some of the extremely over exaggerated characters), and for the aforementioned sense of cohesion, not all the events will happen exactly the same way. So if you are reading this before playing the game, please do not expect the game to play out the same way as this story even if most of the primary events and story elements are included. For those of you who have played the game, I hope that you find the changes did both the original story and the characters justice.

By the time you are reading this note, I will have already finished editing the first few chapters, which I intend to post together. I've noticed that several other people have started their own retellings, and I know that the introductory chapters are designed to draw in the readers' attentions. Unfortunately, as someone who's seen the first part of the game countless times, and read it countless more, I've found that the first chapter alone is rarely enough to really captivate my attention. After that, I hope to maintain a fairly steady schedule of updates as I edit my way through the rest of the story.

I'm really not sure what genre I'll post this story as, although I suspect it will probably be Adventure/Friendship. Still, because the story focuses around a war, there will be many other themes: some tragedy, some angst, plenty of fantasy (I mean, it's a world with dragons, gods, and sorcery both good and evil), some emphasis on family, and a hint of romance here and there.

I do not own Fire Emblem. I do not own Intelligent Systems. I do not own any of the characters used in this story. I do not own the cover images, as they are from the official artwork. Also, a trigger warning – there are elements of self-sacrifice and suicide. Rating it T primarily for themes of war, mostly violence and murder, though I'm not into graphic stomach-turning gore. If that's your cup of tea I'm afraid you will have to search elsewhere. Some alcohol use. A few minor sexual references (but generally family-friendly. It's not any more risqué than what was in the game already).

For those of you who have not played FE:A, I recommend skipping ahead to the beginning of the story now, as the remainder of this note will make very little sense to you. If you have played FE:A, which I suspect will be true for most readers, it's your choice whether you wish to read on. Mostly it concerns the writing decisions I made in transposing the story to a new medium.

* * *

On to why I'm writing this. I've heard a lot of people complain that FE:A has a rather weak story. I would agree that in some aspects, the story does fall short of some of the other games of the franchise. However, I personally feel it has little to do with the story itself. Mostly, it has to do with writing and presentation.

I'm not an author by trade, so I can't promise my writing will be significantly better. I've used a good portion of the actual dialogue from the game, but I've also added quite a bit of my own. Hopefully, the parts that I've added are to your liking. I think part of my inspiration for writing this was the inclusion of Robin and Lucina in Super Smash Brothers. I've tried to write it in a way that people who aren't Fire Emblem fans, or who haven't played FE:A can read it as well, just in case. I'll let you be the judge of whether I succeeded or failed in that regard.

One advantage I do feel that I have is in presentation. I mentioned earlier that the character, Robin, is basically designed as a self-insert. That was part of IS's effort to reach out to a wider audience with this game. Another part of it is the support system. Of the main cast, there are ten regular female characters that can support with any of the twelve regular male characters, and potentially end up married, with children that can also take part in the story. While that adds quite a bit in terms of gameplay, and gives a lot of material to the fan base to play with, it also means a lot of "forced" supports, interactions that make absolutely no sense or only add comedic value. On top of that, since the second generation characters are tied to their mothers, it means you have a lot of extremely generic supports between the children and their fathers.

So, with regards to characters and the pairings, I've tried to impose a limit of my own. I don't think I used any support conversation in entirety as it was in the game, but there are plenty of conversations that I personally feel add a lot to a character's background, or to the relationship between two characters that are partially used or referenced. I'm not interested in getting into a huge "shipping" war either, so I haven't obsessively paired off all the characters. I feel that if I did, it would either take way too much time focusing on family relationships (which would eventually feel stale and redundant), or would completely fail to attribute any meaning to those relationships. These pairings aren't necessarily the same as the ones I used in-game, nor are they the ones I recommend to players. Instead, they're pairings that I feel add to the story in some meaningful fashion, either because the supports unveil a lot of relevant background information, or just because the characters and their relationships fit particularly well with some other element of the story. There is also at least one case where I referenced an S-rank support conversation (which in the game symbolizes a marriage between two characters), but kept the relationship between those characters platonic. There will only be five pairings throughout the story, and the only one I will spoil outright is Chrom and Sumia.

Chrom and Sumia is as close to a canonical pairing as the game gives us, with Sumia's limited marriage options, the opening cut scene with Sumia holding their baby, and the various references that happen in the normal cut scenes. It's also, in my opinion, one of the weakest supports in the game. This time, it's not because it was forced, but because of what I feel is a weakness in translation. I'm sure I'm not the only one who found the endless mentions of pie to be more than a little bit annoying. I know in Japanese culture, particularly in the era upon which the world of Fire Emblem is based, cooking for someone unrelated of the opposite gender is a pretty meaningful act, but it doesn't translate well at all. What you end up with is two characters that seem overly obsessed with pie, so for that reason, I've redone all of their supports.

Robin will also be paired, but it will not be to a second generation character. I thoroughly considered pairing Robin with Lucina. Even in the game that causes at least scene to become significantly more powerful emotionally, and there really is a lot of potential with that. I finally decided against it though, as it's a little bit awkward in terms of growing the other family relationships. I'm still not entirely sure the choice I went with is the best choice, for the final pairing is to a kind of love-or-hate character, but I think I've done a good job at minimizing the more objectionable qualities of the character while still remaining true to her design.

Because I only elected to use five pairings, not every character that appears in the game will appear in this story. Mostly this applies to the children characters. Also, the spot pass bonus characters (Emmeryn, Gangrel, Aversa, Walhart, Yen'fay, and Priam) will not appear as part of the Shepherds. Priam won't appear at all in the story.

Panne won't be appearing in the story. This is one of those things I deliberated for some time while envisioning the story, before finally deciding it wasn't worth it. Her character is just so irrelevant to the story, and so inconsistent in terms of support conversations. I was half-tempted to add a genuine Laguz character in her place, but decided the lore wouldn't be worth the investment. However, Panne did have a couple meaningful support conversations… which I have no idea why the game assigned to her to begin with. Part of those conversations have been re-used, but between different characters.

Speaking of which, there aren't really any original characters. I've given some more dialogue and a more prominent role to some of the characters (Emmeryn and the Hierarch, in particular), since I felt the game didn't quite do those characters justice in its writing. I've also named a couple previously unnamed characters, though out of loyalty to the game I've followed the naming convention that the game already uses for similar characters.

I hope you enjoy reading this work as much as I enjoyed writing it. Any feedback would be appreciated. Even though the story is already fully written, I'm still editing as I post and can make some adjustments if needed. Like I mentioned at the beginning, I won't be responding to comments at the beginning of each chapter, but if I do receive meaningful feedback, since each arc has been broken out into a separate story, I can address it in the foreword at some point.


	2. Prologue: Premonitions

**Prologue: Premonitions**

The two men stepped forward lightly, as if hoping to remain undetected. But their clattering footsteps echoed through the dimly-lit hallway. Stealth was irrelevant, anyhow; their adversary certainly knew they were coming. But the hall was eerily quiet, save for their footsteps, and left them treading cautiously.

One of the men had already unsheathed his weapon. His sword reflected the dim torchlight, shining brightly, far brighter than his fine suit of mail armor. At the base of the blade, there was a tear-shaped notch, a design unique to that particular weapon. His long white cape flowed loosely behind him, causing the nearby torches to flicker. His hair, cropped short and parted neatly, bore the raven-blue hue so common among his bloodline: the royal bloodline of Ylisse, the descendants of the first exalt. He appeared young, but the weight of his station and his responsibilities had taken their toll, and his blue eyes had lost their youthful, optimistic luster. Despite the pressure, his demeanor still spoke of confidence, pride, and determination. A mark on his arm matched the design at the base of his blade – the mark of the exalt, further proof of his heritage.

Walking beside him was a slightly smaller man, with platinum-blond hair. He looked to be roughly the same age as the blue-haired man, just a few years past two decades. Unlike the lord he followed, his hair was rather messy, and though his expression showed the same determination, his dark eyes darted back and forth, searching for any sign of their enemies. Unlike the blue-haired man, his armor was of thin, light, gold-leafed plates, and was mostly covered by a dark robe, trimmed in violet, with golden tassels. Though of smaller build, his measured gait marked him as a capable fighter. The sword in his scabbard was clearly of custom-make, with a ruby-encrusted pommel and a small inscription decorating the guard. Rather than drawing his blade, as his companion had, he instead held a small tome, inscribed with runes rather than words. He was not only a skilled swordsman, but a tactician and mage, as well.

As they stepped into a grand anteroom, the two found their quarry. A tall, middle-aged, dark-skinned man with crimson eyes stood roughly thirty paces away. Their foe was clad in the robes of a Grimleal clergyman, of similar make and color to the robes worn by the tactician. He smiled grimly, his short goatee giving him a rather sinister appearance, as the pair approached. Behind the pair of intruders, several others filtered into the room, but neither the lord nor his platinum-blond companion seemed to notice; this was between the three of them. He flashed a signal to his waiting Grimleal cultists – they would deal with the rabble easily enough.

For a moment, the three men stood still, as if waiting for someone to speak. But the time for words was long past. The young lord rushed forward, blade extended, hoping to bring a quick end to their treacherous foe.

The dark-skinned man, a dark sorcerer by trade, quickly retaliated with scintillating waves of magical energy, drawn from a tome that he had brought forth with lightning speed. The two exchanged several attacks, until the devious sorcerer deliberately blasted the stone tiles at the lord's feet, throwing him off balance. He then fired a second blast, what would've been a finishing blow to his stumbling foe.

The lord's ally intervened, drawing forth magical energies from his own tome and firing an intercepting bolt. The two spells collided, showering dissipating waves of magical energy around the impact, but leaving the young lord unharmed, and giving him time to regain his footing. The sorcerer turned, glaring at the smaller man, who met it with his own, equally intense glare. The animosity between the two men was palpable, causing the young lord to shudder involuntarily.

As if reminding his friend of their cause, the lord spoke. "This is it. Our final battle. You're one of us Robin, and no "destiny" can change that. Now let's kill this dastard and be done with it!"

The tactician, Robin, turned towards his friend and nodded. "I know, Chrom. This ends here."

The two men advanced together, closing in on the sorcerer. Unconcerned, the sorcerer simply laughed. "Why do you resist? You've already lost!" A quick gesture, and another flurry of magical energy rained towards his opponents. "Struggle all you want!" he taunted, as his two victims braced themselves.

"You'll have to do better than that, Validar!" Robin cried, as he suddenly leapt forward, closing the remaining distance between them. Shrugging off the magical barrage, he fired off another blast of lightning and drew his own sword. The sorcerer twisted aside, narrowly avoiding Robin's spell, but Robin's gleaming silver blade plunged into his side.

Validar fell back with a gasp, clutching his wounded side. He flung another wave of energy, an aphotic bolt that sent Robin reeling, but leaving Chrom an opening. Seizing the opportunity, the lord rushed forward, past his fallen friend, and plunged his mighty weapon through Validar's heart. As Chrom withdrew his blade, Validar simply fell to his knees silently, then collapsed, a dark pool forming around him, his face a twisted visage of utter loathing.

"Robin?" Chrom asked, turning to his friend. Robin looked up and began to wave, to signal to his friend that he was alive and well. His words died in his throat as the fallen sorcerer lifted his head once more.

"This… isn't… over!" the sorcerer groaned. With what remained of his strength, Validar fired off a final spell, the most devastating strike he could muster. Robin threw himself against Chrom, knocking his friend to the ground, both of them narrowly avoiding Validar's final, futile attack.

Chrom rushed to Robin's side. "Are you alright?" Robin only groaned weakly and tried to push himself into a sitting position. Reassured that his friend would survive, Chrom turned and stared at their dead opponent. "That's the end of him. We can rest easy now, at long last."

Robin finally found the strength to talk. "Chrom…" he moaned weakly. He sat up and turned, looking for the others that had followed them into the room. But suddenly, an agonizing headache struck. His vision grew blurry, and to Robin, it appeared as if everything was flashing red.

"Robin? Robin!" Chrom cried, as he watched his friend twist and turn, as if in a seizure. And then Robin's hand flung outwards toward Chrom, and a bolt of lightning leapt from Robin's palm. The bolt formed a blade-like shape, and pierced the young lord's chest.

Chrom grasped the bolt, surprised. It had been so sudden, painless even. Robin looked at him, an expression of horror sprawled across his face. As Chrom felt his hand burn, and a curious floating sensation hit him, he understood what had happened. He staggered back, trying to hold on, but knew it was too late.

"This is not… your fault…" Chrom gasped. "Promise me… promise me you'll escape… this place." With those last words, Chrom collapsed to the floor and breathed his last, as his friend and murderer watched, horrified. The anteroom went silent as the darkness engulfed them, leaving nothing but emptiness behind.

* * *

"Chrom… we have to do _something_." It was the voice of a young woman, with a hint of impatience.

"What do you propose we do?" answered another voice. This one was deeper, a man's voice. Chrom's voice.

With a groan, the young man awoke. He was lying in a field… somewhere. A young man and woman stood over him, the two of them in the middle of some kind of argument. "Well… I don't know!" the woman cried in frustration. Her hair was blond, and bound into two pigtails that made her look rather childish. She wore a leather vest over her bright yellow blouse and dress. She noticed he was awake, and turned her attention away from the blue-haired man immediately. "Hey there!"

"I see you're awake now," Chrom remarked, turning his attention to the prone man as well, who immediately recognized Chrom as the lord from his dream, with the white cape and fine mail armor. "There are better places to take a nap than on the ground, you know. Give me your hand."

The prone man brushed his platinum blond hair out of his eyes, before extending his hand, which Chrom grasped firmly. As Chrom helped him to his feet, he couldn't help but notice two rather unusual markings. Chrom's right arm was bare from the shoulder, and adorned with a familiar tear-shaped symbol with a decorated, curved "U" shape around its base. A symbol that was similar to the blade Chrom had carried in his dream, he realized. And sure enough, that same sword rested in a scabbard at Chrom's hip.

A second symbol blazed across the back of his own right hand. It was a different symbol, and unlike the decorated tear-shaped mark on Chrom's arm, there was no familiarity to be found here. Six eye-like shapes formed two stalks, meeting at the bottom. Where Chrom's mark was simply a bit darker than his skin, the symbol on his hand was a strange magenta color.

"You alright?" Chrom asked, distracting the man from his silent musing.

"Oh! Yes. Thank you, Chrom," he answered. But as he spoke, something felt off to him.

"Ah. Then you know who I am, I suppose," Chrom said with a laugh. When the man didn't respond immediately, Chrom and the girl both looked at him, unease on their faces.

"No… actually." The mysterious man ran his hand through his hair uneasily. "It's strange. It just… came to me. Somehow."

Chrom didn't seem overly concerned by this revelation. "How curious. Tell me, what's your name? What brings you here?" Again, the man hesitated. _Now_ Chrom looked concerned. "You don't know your own name?"

"I'm not sure. I'm sorry. Where am I, exactly?" he finally answered, looking around.

"Hey I've heard of this!" the girl cried. "It's called amnesia!" she exclaimed proudly.

Suddenly, another man that had so far been silent and unnoticed spoke up. He was just slightly taller than Chrom, with disheveled medium-length brown hair, parted as if he had been running particularly fast, or more likely, riding a horse. He seemed to be only a year or two older than Chrom. He wore what looked to be a heavy suit of polished, full plate armor. "It's called a load of Pegasus dung," he answered, sounding exasperated and suspicious. "We're to believe you remember milord's name but not your own?"

"I know it sounds strange sir, but it's the truth…" the man protested weakly.

The knight opened his mouth to speak, but Chrom interrupted him quickly. "What if it _is_ true, Frederick? We can't just leave him here, alone and confused. What sort of Shepherds would we be then?"

The knight that Chrom had called Frederick turned to face Chrom instead. "Just the same, milord, I must emphasize caution."

Chrom rolled his eyes, looking equally exasperated. "Of course. But let's get back to town. We'll take him with us and sort it out there."

The stranger's eyes widened at that. "Hang on a moment, don't I get a say in this?"

Chrom held up his hands, gesturing for him to calm down. "Peace, friend. I promise we'll hear all that you have to say back in town. But this isn't a particularly great place to talk, is it?" Chrom gestured at the grassy meadow around them.

"Besides," Lissa interrupted. "You don't even know where you are, remember?"

The amnesiac shrugged, then gave a resigned nod. "Well… lead the way then, I guess." Then he grimaced. "What will you do with me? Am I to be your prisoner?"

Chrom laughed gently as he led the group down the beaten dirt path. "Hardly. You'll be free to go once we establish you're no enemy of Ylisse."

"Is that where we are? Ylisse?"

It was Frederick's turn to laugh. But the sardonic tone made it clear he wasn't truly amused. "You've never heard of the halidom? Someone pay this actor, he plays quite the fool," he remarked dryly. "The furrowed brow is particularly convincing, or would be if this weren't utter nonsense."

Chrom shook his head and gestured for the knight to calm down. "Frederick, please." He turned towards the stranger. "This land is known as the Halidom of Ylisse. Our ruler, Emmeryn, is called the exalt." A thought seemed to strike him. "I suppose proper introductions are in order. You already knew my name. The delicate one here is my little sister, Lissa," he said, indicating the young blonde.

"I am NOT delicate!" Lissa interrupted angrily. "Ignore my brother – he's a bit thick sometimes" she instructed. "But you're lucky the Shepherds found you. Brigands would've been a rude awakening!"

"Shepherds?" the amnesiac asked curiously. "You tend sheep in full armor?"

"It can be a dangerous job," Chrom remarked with a sly grin. "Just ask Frederick the Wary." He gestured towards Frederick, who only rolled his eyes.

"Gods forbid one of us keeps an appropriate level of caution."

As Chrom and Lissa laughed, the amnesiac suddenly felt a bit parched. "You wouldn't happen to have any water, would you?" he asked.

"Here you go!" Lissa responded cheerily, as she pulled a water skin and small wooden bowl from her pack. She poured the water into the bowl carefully before handing it over.

For a brief moment, the amnesiac saw his reflection in the bowl. He froze for a moment, recognizing himself as the platinum-blond tactician from his dream. He didn't have the same gold-leafed light plate armor, but he wore the same robe.

"Robin," he said suddenly. The others turned to him. "My name," he explained, rather lamely. "It… just came back to me."

"Robin." Chrom repeated. "Is that foreign? Ah, well. We can discuss it later. At least we have something to call you-"

"Chrom, look! The town!" Lissa interrupted suddenly. All three men turned to see their destination. The small village was just down the hill. It was also in flames, with murky smoke rising steadily from several of the buildings

"Damn it! Brigands again!" Chrom cried angrily. "Frederick, Lissa! Quickly!" With that he started rushing towards the town.

"What about him?" Frederick called out.

"Unless he's on fire as well, it can wait!" Chrom retorted impatiently, without turning. With a shrug, Frederick raced after Chrom whistling as he went, Lissa following close behind. A horse came running towards them, which Frederick climbed onto with a single fluid motion. The horse, too, bore heavily polished armor.

A moment later, Robin was left standing alone on the beaten path. He then noticed a scabbard and tome strapped to his belt. He drew his sword and found that, thankfully, the blade was sharp. It seemed to have been wrought from fine bronze. "Well, why not?" he muttered. He rushed down the hill, trying to catch up with the others.

Chrom arrived at the edge of the town mere moments later, just in time to hear a young woman cry out for help. Frederick and Lissa joined him moments later. "Damn it!" Chrom swore.

"Chrom! We have to stop them!" Lissa panted, clearly out of breath.

"Don't worry. After today, these bandits won't be bothering anyone ever again," Chrom said, his expression hardening. He had spotted the bandits, across the river and grouped near a small bridge. The bridge was on the other side of the now-empty marketplace. The bandits, too, had spotted the newcomers, and their leader, a hulking man with a war paint strewn across his face and a massive axe in hand, simply waved and laughed. A young village girl was held still by another of the brutes, a bald man nearly as large as his leader. Three more bandits stood beside the bald one, all of them armed with large axes. With a roar, Chrom rushed towards the bridge.

"Don't! It's a trap!" Robin cried, as he raced onto the field. Frederick had already begun to follow in Chrom's wake, but upon hearing the warning, he spun around, just as a pair of bandit swordsmen and another bandit with an axe leapt out of the fallen piles of produce near the stalls. He reacted swiftly, drawing his lance, a fine weapon forged from silver, and plunging it through the nearest swordsman's heart.

Chrom wasn't so fortunate, as the other two bandits timed their entrances well, and had him flanked. He had avoided the worst of their initial blows, but still suffered a gash to his left arm, before Frederick joined the fray. The bandit swordsman tried to strike at the approaching knight, but the poorly balanced and rather blunt blade simply bounced off the horse's armor, and he too fell dead moments later. As Chrom dispatched the fighter with the axe, he noticed two more of the axe-toting bandits bursting forth from one of the burning buildings. The two bandits were each carrying a pile of various salvaged goods, but they dropped them quickly, and closed in on Lissa and Robin.

"Go to Chrom!" Robin cried to Lissa, as he turned to face the bandits. Frederick and Chrom both rushed to his aid, but to their surprise, it was unnecessary. One of the bandits had been slower to drop his loot and draw his axe, allowing Robin to dispatch the first rather easily. The second fighter then caught up. Robin moved to parry the incoming blow, but he wasn't quite fast enough, and the bandit twisted his axe, slamming it into Robin's right shoulder and sending the sword spinning from his grasp. He leapt forward with a shout of victory, only to be struck down by a blast of lightning.

"Is that… a tome?" Chrom asked, as he and Frederick reached Robin, recognizing the second weapon Robin had drawn. "You know magic?"

"I… believe so?" Robin answered with a shaky grin,

"Oh right. Memory loss," Chrom said with a frown. "Perhaps I'll just keep a few paces behind you for the time being…"

"I can control it," Robin reassured, as he leapt back to his feet. The other bandits had seen the scuffle and were heading across the bridge. "Chrom!"

"I see them," Chrom muttered. Lissa had finally caught up to them too, panting slightly. "How could you just run past me like that!?" she protested. Ignoring Chrom's half-hearted apology, she lifted a long wooden staff and touched the end of it to the cut on Chrom's arm. In only a few seconds, the wound had more-or-less been mended.

"Thanks Lissa," Chrom said distractedly as he watched the other bandits close in. They were outnumbered five-to-three, not counting Lissa, of course, as she carried no weapon.

"We shouldn't wait for them out here in the open," Robin remarked. "We should back up. Make as if we're fleeing. Then, when they're close enough, Frederick can turn and charge them. While they're distracted, Chrom, you and I can slip around the market stalls."

Chrom and Frederick turned to Robin, surprised. "So, you're a tactician now, too?" Frederick asked, again in the sardonic, disbelieving tone.

"There's no time for this, Frederick. Do as he says," Chrom ordered, surprising both Frederick and Robin.

An even greater surprise soon followed – the plan worked perfectly. Frederick turned around, startling the pursuing bandits, before charging in and instantly slaying one of them. The others fell back, panicked, and none of them noticed Chrom and Robin looping around the market stalls – they were too occupied with the armored mount in their faces.

With a quick gesture, Robin indicated that Chrom should lead the charge. Without hesitation, Chrom joined the fray, just as the bandits were beginning to regroup and turn their attention to the mounted knight. Even as they began to register the newest threat, lightning soared into their midst, taking one bandit down. By the time Robin reached them, Frederick and Chrom had already taken down the remaining three bandits.

"Not bad," Chrom said, panting slightly.

"Well, that's the end of that," Robin said with a slight grin. "Are you two alright?" Frederick and Chrom both nodded as Lissa approached. When she realized neither her brother nor Frederick were wounded, she relaxed.

"Lucky for the town, we were close by. But… holy wow! Robin, you were incredible! Swords, sorcery, and tactics? Is there anything you can't do?" she asked, with a wide smile.

"That could've been much worse," Frederick admitted. "You really are a rather capable man. Perhaps you might even be capable of an explanation for how you came to be here, now," he remarked dryly.

Robin grimaced. Frederick the Wary indeed. "Sorry, Frederick. I wish I could tell you more, but please, believe me. I have shared all that I know."

"You fought to save Ylissean lives," Chrom said, interceding once more. "My heart says that's enough."

"What your heart says is one thing, milord. But there is clearly something afoot here," Frederick argued.

Chrom simply shrugged. "With more and more brigands on the loose, we could use Robin's help. Besides, I believe him. He seems sincere enough."

Robin's eyes widened at that. "T-Thank you," he stammered. His story sounded weak even to himself, and he _knew_ it was true. It was rather touching that Chrom was so willing to trust in him.

Chrom smiled, turning back to face Robin. "So how about it? Will you join us, Robin?"

Robin looked around at the recently ravaged town. "These people really do need our help, don't they?" he mused. "Shepherds, huh?" He turned back towards Chrom, Lissa, and Frederick. "Alright. I'd be honored to help however I can."

"Then it's settled!" Chrom said, before Frederick could interrupt again. "Welcome to the Shepherds, Robin."

Frederick could only shake his head in disgust. But he knew it was a pointless debate, as Chrom's mind was set, and decided to bring their attention to other matters instead. "Did you notice, milord? The brigands spoke with a Plegian accent."

"Plegian? What's that?" Robin asked curiously. Frederick sighed again.

"Plegia is Ylisse's westerly neighbor. Recently, they have been sending bandits into our territory, hoping to instigate a war," Chrom explained. "It's crude, but they've held a grudge since our last war, and have been particularly restless lately."

"And it's the poor townsfolk who suffer!" Lissa protested angrily. "Totally innocent, and totally helpless!"

"And that's why the kingdom needs us," Frederick said. He still looked suspicious, but it seemed he was willing to be civil. "Shepherds to protect the sheep."

Robin nodded. "I think I understand," he replied, though it was still lost on him why those who tended to sheep would the most battle-hardened and capable of handling bandits. That was about as far as he got in his thoughts, for some of the villagers had come forth to greet them.

"Please! You must stay the night!" the local innkeeper insisted. "We are simple folk of simple means, but we would gladly toast your valor with a feast!"

Lissa looked rather excited at that, but Frederick shook his head. "A most generous offer, sir, and no doubt your hospitality would be grand, but I'm afraid we are needed in Ylisstol."

"Frederick, it's nearly dark!" Lissa protested.

"We can set up camp when night falls, but for now we should be going," Frederick insisted. Lissa turned to Chrom in disbelief, but Chrom merely shrugged and nodded.

"Frederick!" Lissa whined.

"I believe you were the one who mentioned 'getting use to this'," Frederick remarked. "Come along now, milady." And with that he headed off towards the woods.

"Frederick? Sometimes I hate you," Lissa said, rolling her eyes. Chrom and Robin shared a laugh at that, and the three of them set off after Frederick.


	3. Chapter 1: A Glimpse of Calamity

**Chapter 1: A Glimpse of Calamity**

True to his word, when night fell, Frederick stopped, insisting they set up camp now that it was too dark to continue safely. Thankfully, they had extra bedrolls; despite his suspicious nature, Frederick truly was prepared for anything, it seemed. After a short foray into the woods while Robin and Chrom were setting a campfire, Frederick returned with what he proclaimed to be "dinner": a bear carcass, to Lissa's dismay.

"Who on earth eats bear!?" Lissa protested, for about the eighteenth time. "Gods, couldn't you have speared us an animal normal people eat for once?"

"Bear is fine, Lissa," Chrom said, clearly accustomed to his sister's antics. "Just try it. It just tastes like meat." Frederick quickly apportioned some of the roasted bear for the others, who sat down on logs around the campfire.

"You're messing with the food chain! Come on, Robin, help me out here!" Lissa continued, turning to her newest friend for support. Unfortunately for her, Robin was famished and devouring his portion with relish. "Robin! "You're not helping!" She sighed. "I guess a person would enjoy just about anything after not eating for days…"

"Just eat it Lissa," Chrom urged. "It's just meat."

"Since when does meat smell like old boots? Wait, I take that back, boots smell better!"

"Every experience makes us stronger, milady. Even those we don't enjoy." Frederick assured, and Lissa rounded on him. For a moment, it looked as if she was ready to continue the tirade, but then she smiled slyly.

"Really? Then why don't I see you eating, Frederick?"

"Me? Oh. I'm, well… not hungry. I had a large lunch. Yes, quite," the knight stammered. Lissa was unconvinced, and stormed off into the woods, complaining about the smell of roasted bear the whole time.

"Should I keep an eye on her?" Robin asked, looking around uneasily.

"Nah. I'll have a word with her," Chrom said, climbing to his feet. "Besides, these woods are pretty quiet at this time of the night. We don't really have wolves or anything else to worry about."

"Perhaps we should've pushed on through," Frederick remarked quietly. "We sent the others ahead when we found Robin, maybe we could've tried to catch up to them tonight instead."

Chrom shook his head. "It's too dark. It would be pretty embarrassing to be brought down by a stray branch after a day of dealing with Plegian bandits. I'll be right back." With that, Chrom strolled off, searching for Lissa.

To his surprise, it took him nearly five minutes to catch up to his sister. "Lissa!" he called. Lissa turned and acknowledged him with a wave, before turning her attention back upwards. Chrom marched over to her side, then turned, enraptured by the odd sight as well.

A large glyph formed of white light hovered in the air, parallel to the ground. For a moment, both of them stared at the strange symbol, transfixed. Beams of light streaked downwards at various angles, touching down on the ground thirty feet down around it. As the surrounding trees burst into flame, and the earth itself began to shake, the enchantment the sight held upon the two was broken.

"Lissa, run!" Chrom cried. The two of them raced off, with Chrom wrenching Lissa back when she almost turned the wrong way, and they fled back towards the camp. "Frederick!" Chrom called.

Behind them, a masked warrior leapt from the glyph, landing lightly on both feet. But the warrior wasn't alone. Several objects fell, scattered through the woods, one of them landing only a few feet away from Chrom and Lissa. The tremors stopped, and for a moment, everything was perfectly still.

"Chrom, what is that?" Lissa demanded, panicking slightly. The object looked to be a body at first. But then it stood, holding an axe.

"He's alive?" Chrom remarked, stepping towards the strange object. He wondered if they were about to find a second mysterious amnesiac. And then he realized his mistake, for the man in front of him was clearly not alive. His flesh had been darkened, and had begun to rot. His skin was tinted a sinister dark-violet, ashen hue. His eyes glowed crimson, and when he opened his mouth, the only noise that escaped was a rasping growl. "Stand back, Lissa," Chrom commanded, drawing his sword.

The undead creature didn't wait long. It rushed forward a moment after it regained its balance, swinging its axe over its head at Chrom clumsily. The skilled fighter easily avoided the rather obvious strike, and countered swiftly, impaling his foe. The monster gasped in surprise, the same raspy noise it had made before, and a cloud of nasty smelling dust poured forth from its mouth.

And then it swung its axe again. Chrom, caught flat-footed, narrowly avoided the blow before countering once more, this time simply decapitating the monster, then removing its arms. He would have continued, as the headless, armless abomination was still wriggling even as it began to collapse into dust. But Lissa cried out, and Chrom turned in time to see Lissa pinned by another of the fiends with her back against a tree, holding her staff out as if she was hoping she could parry an axe with it.

Chrom raced towards Lissa, hoping he could reach her in time, but to his surprise and relief, another warrior rushed past him, sword drawn, catching the axe with a neat parry. A quick counterattack later and the monster was left without arms. The newcomer was clearly familiar with battling these undead foes.

Silently thankful for the reprieve, Chrom decapitated the armless monster, allowing it to crumble into dust along with its companion. He turned, and in the light of the forest fire, he could see several more of the creatures staggering towards them.

The hoof beats of Frederick's steed sounded, and Chrom experienced a surge of relief, as he realized he wouldn't be battling this horde alone. "Milord, milady, are you hurt!?" Frederick was nearly beside himself with panic.

"Frederick!" Lissa called, sharing in Chrom's relief. "Robin!" she added, as the tactician stepped into the clearing as well.

Immediately after noting that his friends were uninjured, Robin turned his attention to the approaching enemies. "Are these horrific creatures commonplace in these lands?" he asked, shocked, as he realized that they were about to be assaulted by the living dead.

"They're not from Ylisse, I promise you that," Chrom answered, still uneasy. "We're outnumbered pretty badly here…"

"Well, Frederick and Robin are here now. _And_ the masked man who saved me! We should be… hey, where'd he go?" Lissa asked.

Frederick frowned. "We can worry about him later," he said, indicating the approaching zombies. "After we put these… things… to the blade."

"Wait, Frederick, what are those?" Robin asked suddenly, gesturing towards several groupings of barricades between them and the monsters.

"Abandoned fortifications. This must have been a battlefield some time ago, too," Frederick answered grimly.

"Chrom, let's push out ahead. If we can beat them to the forts, we can fight them from a better position. The spear walls will limit how they approach, and it appears the flooring is more even," Robin suggested.

Chrom nodded. "Alright then."

The four of them moved out together, for at Robin's insistence, Lissa could not be left clear of the battle; they couldn't be sure more of the monsters weren't approaching from behind. The first three zombies had passed the forts already, but mindlessly ambled forward, where they were cut down. Before long, the Shepherds were garrisoned neatly behind the walls. Bursts of lightning felled several of the zombies that approached, and the surviving undead were cut down as soon as they reached the entrances. Those who tried to crawl over found themselves hopelessly tangled and easy prey to Robin's magical assault. But still, more zombies approached.

More hoof beats announced another newcomer. Another knight, this one female, rode onto field on horseback. Her hair was cropped short, and was the same shade of red as her armor. She looked to be able the same age as Chrom and Robin. From her expression, it was clear she was ready for a fight.

"Captain Chrom! I'm coming!" she cried, as she rode towards the fort. She swore under her breath. "Gods. I knew I shouldn't have left them."

"Hold, milady!" A young man dashed up to the female knight, clearly out of breath from trying to pursue a horse on foot. His long, light-blue hair hung around him, rather neatly for someone who had been running through the woods. The female knight turned, her face screwing up in confusion. "Life may be long, but attraction is fleeting! Would you leave me in your sweet dust? Leave war to warriors, dear bird! A beauty such as you need wage only love!" the man proclaimed eagerly.

"Is this guy serious? His timing could use some work," Robin observed quietly, as he blasted away another zombie that had tried to crawl into the fort. At least it wasn't more zombies.

The female rider didn't seem too amused either. "The hell are you?" she demanded.

"Ha! Is the lady intrigued? Of course you are – it is only natural! I am myth and legend! The man who puts the "arch" in archer!" the man answered, presenting a finely decorated bow. "My name, dear lady, is –"

"Sorry, Ruffles. I don't have time for this." With that, the female rider turned her attention back to the warriors trapped in the fort ahead.

"Virion!" the man finished. "Err. My name. It's Virion. Where are you going?" Virion rushed forward again, trying to keep up with the rider. "Pray, at least tell me your name!"

The rider groaned. "I'm Sully. I'm a Shepherd. Now get –"

"Sully!" Virion pronounced joyfully, in his annoyingly musical voice. "How divine. A starkly beautiful name, as befits its owner, truly. Will you marry me, my dearest Sully?"

Robin groaned. Another Shepherd was definitely going to help, with the hordes of undead only growing thicker. But the strange archer was creeping him out, and worst of all, distracting their potential reinforcements. The rider had paused, a look of utter confusion on her face. She had actually hopped off her horse. "Chrom!" Robin cried, spotting one of the monsters that had found its way to another opening. Chrom reacted instantly, cutting down the creature before returning to his position. Lissa was scrambling around frantically, healing both Frederick and Chrom as needed with her staff. Robin turned back just in time to see the rider kick the archer in the rear, hard, before hopping onto her horse again, drawing her lance, and joining the fray.

Another lance proved quite helpful, and pretty soon the zombie horde began to thin. Just as things were beginning to look up though, Lissa cried out, and Robin cursed as he realized he had slipped up and a zombie had made it over the wall. He lifted his tome once more, but before he could strike it down, Virion, who had stumbled into the fort behind Sully, loosed a pair of arrows down the fort, hitting the zombie cleanly in the chest. A third arrow struck the zombie straight in the forehead, and it collapsed.

"Thanks," Robin said grudgingly, as he turned his attention to a nearby zombie. Hoping to conserve his magic, he drew forth his sword instead – tomes weren't infinite in use, and he had been emptying its pages of magic at an alarming rate.

Virion backed away uneasily. "I, as it happens, am an archer! The archest of archers, in fact. I attack most effectively from a distance, so kindly keep those horrendous creatures away from me!"

"He's nowhere near you!" Robin grumbled, as he cut down the struggling zombie. He turned back to check on the others, just as Frederick and Sully charged into the open, cutting down the stragglers. He sighed with relief – another crisis averted.

As the Shepherds regrouped, they were joined by Lissa's masked savior. "It appears this young man dispatched the others," Frederick said, introducing their mysterious new ally.

Lissa looked uncharacteristically nervous. "Um, I never got to thank you… you know, for before. So. Thank you. You were very brave."

"You saved my sister's life," Chrom added. "Thank you for your help." The masked man merely nodded. Chrom continued trying for a response. "My name is Chrom. Might I ask yours?"

"You may call me Marth," the masked man answered. Everyone but Robin blinked in surprise at that.

"After the heroic king of old? You certainly fight like a hero," Chrom remarked. "Where did you learn your way with the sword?"

Marth shook his head. "I'm not here to talk about me. This world teeters at the brink of a horrible calamity. What you saw tonight was but a prelude. You have been warned." With those parting words, Marth stepped away from them. The unnatural flames had mostly subsided already. Perhaps it had recently rained and the plant life was wet, or more likely, the fires weren't ordinary flames. Nothing else had seemed ordinary, after all.

Robin watched as Marth stepped away, disappearing into the darkness of the woods. Physically, Marth wasn't particularly impressive, standing barely over five feet tall with a rather slender figure. Marth's hair was precisely the same shade as Chrom's, and the scabbard Marth wore had looked rather familiar, as did the hilt of his blade. His voice wasn't deep either, giving Robin the impression that this Marth was probably rather young.

"What's teetering where now?" Lissa echoed quietly.

Robin shrugged. "Not much for conversation, is he?"

"There's little reason to concern ourselves with him now," Frederick answered. "I don't think we'll be getting much sleep tonight. Why don't we push on through? We can rest in Ylisstol." Without protest, the weary group trudged back to the camp and retrieved their supplies before setting off. And though no more monsters were seen that night, every one of them felt a little uneasy until they put the forest far behind them.

* * *

Ylisstol made for a pleasant change in atmosphere. The weary shepherds trooped into the city at the break of dawn, but already, the city showed signs of life. The streets were paved neatly with cobblestones, and various vendors were already scrambling around, laying out various trinkets or preparing food.

Unlike the village, which according to Frederick, was uninspiringly named "South Town", the civilians here seemed relatively unscathed. As they marched towards their destination, with Chrom leading the way, the city began to wake. There was no fear of brigands here, no strange undead monsters, and certainly no sign of the calamity that Marth had hinted at, Robin noted. Only people going about their peaceful, daily lives. In fact, the recent bandit activity was merely a subject of gossip.

"It appears the capital was spread the chaos we encountered. Thank the gods," said Frederick, echoing Robin's thoughts. "I see no evidence of the great quake. It must have been limited to the forest."

"Well, that's a relief," agreed Lissa, who had been far more cheerful since leaving the woods.

"Where are we headed, by the way?" Robin asked. There had been some talk of meeting with the other Shepherds, but that was about it.

"First, the castle," Chrom answered. Robin raised his eyebrows at that. It was pretty clear to him that the Shepherds were only shepherds metaphorically. Now that he thought about it, Frederick did seem rather formal, not to mention well-trained, for a vigilante. But a sudden bout of cheering and applause forestalled his questions.

"Look! The exalt has come to see us!" cried one nearby old man ecstatically. Others took up similar cries, as a regally dressed woman with elegantly braided blond hair passed by with her entourage. The monarch was younger than Robin had imagined, a few years older than Chrom. The same age as Frederick, perhaps. The exalt smiled and waved kindly at her people as she passed, spurring on the cheering.

Robin smiled as he watched the exalt and her entourage pass by. He couldn't help it; there was something about her that just inspired a sense of serenity in those looking on. Perhaps it was the gentle smile, or maybe it was the graceful way she carried herself. "The exalt is your ruler, right?" he asked Chrom, remembering their earlier conversation about Ylisse.

But it was Frederick who answered. "Yes. Her name is Lady Emmeryn. The exalt is a symbol of peace – our Ylisse's most prized quality. Centuries ago, the fell dragon sought to destroy our world. The first exalt, a descendant of the hero-king Marth, joined forces with the divine dragon and laid the beast low. Exalt Emmeryn is a symbol of those trials and our hard-earned peace." Though Robin didn't know anything of the divine dragon or the fell dragon, the name Marth rang familiar.

"With Plegia threatening war, the people need Emmeryn now, more so than ever. She's a living legacy of the royal bloodline, and a reminder that we must always strive towards harmony," Chrom added.

Robin nodded. That much was easily understood – the danger imposed upon South Town was cruel indeed, and could easily lead to retaliation and open warfare, a course that could only spread such horrors further. "Ylisse is lucky to have her."

"She's also the best big sister anyone could ask for," Lissa added, her good mood only magnified by the excitement in the crowd.

"Big sister?" Robin asked, furrowing his brow. "But wouldn't that make you and Chrom…"

Frederick smirked. "The princess and prince of Ylisse, yes. You remembered Chrom's name, but not this minor detail?"

Robin turned to Chrom, in shock, and began feebly stammering an apology for his lack of manners. But Chrom only laughed. "Relax Robin. And please, just call me Chrom. I've never been much for formalities."

Robin took a deep breath. Actually, once they said it aloud, it made quite a bit of sense. Frederick had always addressed Chrom and Lissa with unusual respect and formality. Even while traveling, their clothing and equipment was rather fine. "So, we're to report to the exalt directly then?" Robin guessed.

"To Captain Phila, actually," Chrom corrected. "She's the leader of Ylisse's Pegasus knights, and more or less the rest of our military as well." He pointed towards one of Emmeryn's bodyguards, a middle-aged woman with steel-gray hair and highly decorated golden armor. "But of course, Emmeryn will be present as well. Would you like to meet her? They should be returning to the castle soon."

Sure enough, Emmeryn was making her way to the castle as well. In the midst of the crowd by the castle gates, Sully had parted ways with them. To her annoyance, Virion chose to follow her as well. "Sully isn't too fond of formal meetings," Frederick commented. "Neither is Prince Chrom for that matter, but I'm afraid milord has little say in this matter."

They reached the gates soon enough. The beaming guards recognized them immediately and let them through, with only a single questioning glance towards Robin. Exalt Emmeryn and the captain Chrom had mentioned were standing only a few paces down the hallway. Upon seeing her younger siblings, Emmeryn's kind smile grew wider.

"Chrom. Lissa." Her voice fit her rather well, Robin thought. Quiet and kind as befit her appearance. But her speech was steady, with a confident undertone – upon hearing her, no one could mistake her for being shy or weak. "Welcome home. Oh, and good day, Frederick. I hope my brother behaved himself?" a hint of a teasing smile crossed her face.

"Of course, milady," Frederick answered politely, with a deep bow. "Although the journey certainly proved to be an exciting one." Emmeryn's expression darkened at that. "Brigands, milady," Frederick continued quickly.

"We won't have any issues with those bandits again," Chrom added, reassuring his sister. Emmeryn nodded, the peaceful smile returning.

"Wonderful. Are our people unharmed?"

"As safe as they could be. Although they were certainly shook up," Chrom said, shaking his head. "We must watch our borders more closely, we believe the bandits crossed over from Plegia."

Captain Phila, who had been quiet thus far, frowned at that last piece of information. "Forgive me, milord. My Pegasus knights should have intercepted them. I will alert them – we can't allow Plegians so deeply into our territory when our relationship with them is as strained as it is."

"I'm sure you did what you could, Captain Phila," Chrom insisted. "Frankly, our military hasn't been as strong as it should be of late, and we know your resources are limited."

"Besides, we took care of them. We found plenty of help too!" Lissa added, evidently eager to introduce the newest Shepherd. Robin only looked a bit uneasy – it was rather odd to have no memories one afternoon, and be introduced to the ruler of the halidom the next morning.

"Ah. I suppose you are speaking of your new companion here, sister?" Emmeryn asked, turning her attention to the platinum-blond tactician.

"She is," Chrom confirmed. "This is Robin. He fought bravely with us against the brigands, and for that, I've decided to make him a Shepherd."

"For that, Ylisse owes you a debt of gratitude," Emmeryn corrected gently, with a slight bow towards a surprised and flustered Robin.

"N-Not at all, milady!" Robin said. "I'm afraid I am the one who owes Ylisse – Chrom himself found me in a rather dire situation to begin with," he continued modestly.

"Forgive me, your grace, but I must speak," Frederick interrupted. "What Robin refers to is the fact that he claims to have no memories. We found Robin alone and unconscious in a meadow. His claims may be true, but we cannot simply ignore the possibility that he is a brigand himself, or even a Plegian spy. His robes, as you might've noticed, bear some similarity to those worn by Plegia's Grimleal priests."

"Frederick!" Chrom interrupted harshly, clearly frustrated by his retainer's constant vigil. Lissa looked equally annoyed, but Robin was merely surprised.

"Grimleal?" he asked curiously, examining his own robe more closely. "You believe me to be from Plegia?"

"The robes share a color scheme, although it has been a long time since I've encountered any true Grimleal," Frederick admitted. "I mean no disrespect, Robin, but…" he trailed off as Emmeryn raised her hand in a gesture of conciliation.

"I understand, Frederick. And I thank you for your prudence. Your concerns are well-founded in times such as these. But this man has earned my brother's trust, and who, in turn, has certainly earned ours." Emmeryn turned towards Chrom. "Robin will remain your responsibility, Chrom. Which of course, you already accepted when you made him a Shepherd, correct?"

Chrom nodded in acceptance. "Is that alright with you Robin?"

"Of course. Thank you, Chrom. Thank you, milady," answered Robin.

"Then it is settled," Emmeryn acknowledged. "I assume you, too, will watch over our newest Shepherd?" she asked, turning back to Frederick, who nodded stiffly, "Chrom and Lissa are blessed to have so tireless a guardian. I do hope they realize and appreciate it," she added with a smile. Chrom and Lissa both smiled sheepishly at that remark, but Frederick proved rather gracious about it.

"They occasionally express something akin to gratitude, your grace. But I'm afraid I must turn your attention towards other matters." Frederick quickly described their unusual encounter in the woods, with the mysterious masked warrior who called himself Marth, and the shambling undead enemies.

"We are aware of them," Phila admitted, with a heavy sigh, when Frederick had finished his tale. "My Pegasus knights reported them appearing sporadically across the country side this morning. I'm afraid your encounter was not an isolated incident."

"In fact," Emmeryn added, "We were about to hold council regarding this threat, as well as other recent troubles. I was hoping you would join us, Chrom."

"Of course," Chrom agreed easily. Frederick nodded, clearly intending to be a part of the meeting as well. But even as Robin began to wonder whether he should be included, Lissa tugged at his hand.

"Come on, Robin, that's our cue. Let's go meet the other Shepherds and get settled in!"

"Go on," Chrom said with a smile. "The Shepherds are practically one big family, and I think it's a good time for them to meet their new tactician." With those words, the group parted with Chrom and Frederick following Emmeryn deeper into the castle, while Lissa led Robin towards the courtyard and the barracks.

* * *

"The nobles are calling for war," Emmeryn began, her composure finally slipping. They had only just reached the throne room. Captain Phila remained by her side, and Ylisse's hierarch, the primary advisor to the exalt, had been waiting. Only Chrom and Frederick showed any sign of surprise; evidently, this matter had already been discussed in their absence.

"Which ones?" Chrom asked, feeling rather uneasy. The noble families of Ylisse held strong influence on the populace, especially here in Ylisstol. They were typically calm and reasonable, and fully supportive of Exalt Emmeryn's bids for peace. Political strife had not been common ever since the fall of the last exalt, during the first Plegian War.

Emmeryn signed heavily, the stress of the situation clearly visible in her eyes and expression. "Practically all of them. Duke Themis stands by us, still, but the scandal two years ago still weighs heavily on his reputation. The Plegians have postured rather aggressively and the commoners have been living under their shadow for several months now. The nobles are calling for a show of strength."

"In truth, such a course could prove wise, my grace," Frederick interjected. "King Gangrel is determined to provoke a reaction. We've done our best to ignore his antics thus far, but the situation will have to change, sooner or later."

"I understand. But Ylisse is not ready. Our military strength is limited, and more importantly, the populace has only just begun to recover from the last war," Emmeryn continued.

"Ready or not, I doubt Gangrel will respond kindly if we ask him politely to stop," Chrom remarked. "In fact, I suspect he'll simply claim ignorance of the brigands."

"Milady Emmeryn," the hierarch said, "Truly only one option lies before us. Ylisse has not the strength to wage war with Plegia. We must send for help."

"Our purpose is not war," Emmeryn reminded harshly, raising her voice slightly. "We must hold the needs of the people first and foremost, and any action we take must be to quell the bandit activity, but go no further."

"I understand," the hierarch agreed. "But to deter further action requires the same military force that we would need for the war. We must strengthen Ylisse."

"I concur," added Frederick. "I understand your trepidation, your grace, but any discussion of directing our military strength appropriately must wait until we have secured a relevant army. For months, King Gangrel has been rallying Plegia's forces. It would be prudent to gather our strength, even if we do not plan to retaliate against Plegia directly."

Emmeryn closed her eyes. She could not refute the counsel she had been given. But she knew her people, and knew that in their hearts, they sought peace. And she knew the nobles of her halidom. Anger and pride were dangerous. In truth, Ylisse's military had been kept weak intentionally – so long as her halidom had the power to fight, there was always the risk of petty individuals pressuring Ylisse down a darker road. She was determined to lead her people away from the horrors of war, but still, it felt like Ylisse was gravitating in that direction despite her efforts.

"You are right," she finally admitted, her eyes still closed. "We cannot simply hope for the Plegian aggression to pass."

"Ferox is our only option then," said Chrom. Ferox was the third country in the continent, sharing Ylisse's northern border. Ferox was a smaller halidom, plagued with bitter cold and unfertile soil. Strength of arm was the way of life in Ferox, and they would certainly prove to be invaluable allies should war beset Ylisse. In the former war, Ferox had remained neutral until Plegia's Grimleal joined the fray. Plegia was one of the few regions in the world that tolerated and accepted the crazed cultists who worshipped the fell dragon. Fearing the consequences should Plegia emerge victorious with the help of the dark magic, Ferox then sided with Ylisse.

Emmeryn nodded. It was inevitable, of course, that Ferox be involved. But in truth, she feared their involvement. Ferox was known for its harsh life, and that harsh life pushed their warriors to excellence. But the same temperament made them proud and belligerent. Should they suffer the same intrusions that Ylisse had, the mighty khans would inevitably call for war immediately. It would prove even more difficult to prevent a war if they were successful in forging an alliance. "Very well," she said. "Chrom, I ask that you travel to Regna Ferox, as a representative of the throne of Ylisse, to seek an alliance against the threat of Plegian aggression."

"Understood," answered Chrom. "I will gather the Shepherds, and we will march immediately."

"We will do no such thing," interrupted Frederick. "Forgive me, your grace, but we have traveled through the night, and I believe at least a night's rest is in order for our eager prince."

Emmeryn's smile returned. "Dependable Frederick," she said quietly to herself. "Then it's settled," Emmeryn said to rest of the council. "The Shepherds will set off tomorrow towards Regna Ferox. Time may be of the essence, but a single day will not impact our plans too greatly."

* * *

Elsewhere in the castle, Lissa led Robin to a large building at the edge of the courtyard. "Here we are!" she announced as she tugged open the large wooden door. "The Shepherd's garrison. Go on, make yourself at home!"

Robin entered, looking around curiously. Two women were chatting vigorously when they entered. One had light-brown, shoulder length hair, and wore a light suit of plate armor, of similar design to Sully's. The other woman had longer, blond hair, and wore a fancy pink and white dress. A young dark-haired man in oversized armor sat in the shadows behind them, casually drinking a cup of tea. A blond man with tanned skin, who wore only weathered leather breeches and boots, was sparring with an imaginary foe, swinging an axe around recklessly. As they heard the door open, all four turned their attention to Lissa and her companion.

"Lissa, my treasure!" cried the other blonde woman. "Are you alright? I've been on pins and needles!"

"Oh, hey Maribelle!" Lissa answered cheerfully.

"Oh hey yourself! I've sprouted fourteen gray hairs fretting over you!"

"You worry too much!" Lissa reassured, embracing her friend. "I can handle a battle or two!" Then her face scrunched up a little. "I could do without the bear barbeque though. Oh! Robin, this is Maribelle. She's my best friend, and the daughter of Duke Themis, one of Emm's staunchest supporters!"

Maribelle turned to Robin, wrinkling her nose slightly. But before she could say anything, the blond man cut in. "Hey squirt! Where's Chrom? I bet he had a rough time out there without ol' Teach and his trusty axe!"

"Oh, so you're "Teach" now, Vaike? And here I thought people were just born lacking wits. It can be taught?" Lissa asked with a giggle.

"Hah! Never doubt ol' Vaike!" answered Vaike, oblivious. The brunette interrupted before Vaike could truly process Lissa's comment.

"Beg pardon, but when might we see the captain?" she asked, worriedly.

"Poor Sumia has been beside herself with concern," said Maribelle, with a sly smile. "She's been rather distracted. She might have earned fewer bruises fighting blindfolded than she suffered during training yesterday."

Sumia began to stammer nervously, but Lissa answered before the embarrassed woman could formulate a response. "Aw, Sumia, that's so sweet of you to worry about Chrom."

"Worry? He's our captain and our prince, of course I'd be worried!" Sumia protested. But before she could say anything else, Vaike spotted Robin's scabbard.

"Hah, you're a swordsman?" Vaike asked, beaming widely. "Let's go, buddy!"

"He's more than a swordsman," Lissa interrupted, going back to her introductions. "He just joined the Shepherds. Chrom made him our new tactician. You should see all the tricks he's got up his sleeve!"

Robin shook his head modestly. But before he could correct Lissa, Vaike had apparently decided he'd been challenged. "Oh yea? Can he do this?" With that taunt, Vaike let out a horrendous belch.

Robin stared at him for a moment, dumbfounded. "I'm sure I have much to learn still, actually," he answered tactfully.

"Vaike, that was abhorrent!" Maribelle protested. "Must you baseborn oafs pollute even the air with your buffoonery!? And you, Robin! Don't encourage him! I had hoped you were cut from finer cloth!" And with that, she stormed out of the barracks angrily.

"Don't take it to heart," Sumia said kindly. "Maribelle warms to people slowly. By the way, I'm Sumia. Nice to meet you!"

"Nice to meet you too," Robin answered with a smile. "And you too, 'Teach'," he added with a grin, as he shook hands with both Sumia and Vaike. He turned, searching for the fourth Shepherd, but the dark-haired man must have stepped away as he was nowhere to be seen. But before he could ask about him, Chrom stepped into the barracks behind him. The meeting must have been rather short, or perhaps their detour to the stables to greet Sully had taken longer than he remembered.

Before Chrom could say anything, Sumia rushed forward to greet him. "Captain! You've returned! I was, I mean, we were," she began, before tripping. "Ouch!"

"Sumia!" Chrom cried out in surprise. He stepped over and extended a hand to the woman, helping her back to her feet. "Are you alright? You're still not used to those new boots, I suppose."

"N-No! I mean, yes! I mean…" Sumia stammered. Lissa put a reassuring hand on the brunette's shoulder, calming her down.

"It's alright," Chrom said reassuringly. "Anyways, listen up everyone. Tomorrow morning, we march towards Regna Ferox."

"Regna Ferox?" Robin questioned.

Sumia answered before Chrom could. "A unified kingdom to Ylisse's north. It's supposedly inhabited by barbarians."

"Warriors, actually," Chrom corrected. "They prize strength above all else, and it's that same strength we need to meet the recent threats to Ylisse. The exalt has chosen to send me in her stead to seek an alliance with Ferox. Given the situation though, I would appreciate any help and company the Shepherds would offer."

"I volunteer!" Lissa cried immediately.

"Me too," Vaike added. "You'll be needing ol' Teach along for such a delicate mission!" Robin cringed. Vaike's demeanor did not scream diplomacy to him.

"I'll go as well," the dark-haired man offered suddenly, appearing out of nowhere.

Robin's nodded, as he turned his attention. "I'll be there," Robin assured.

That left only Sumia, who was looking down at the ground hesitantly. "Um…"

"It's strictly voluntary," Chrom assured her. "If you're not comfortable you can remain here."

"I want to come," Sumia said quickly. "But… I'm just not sure I'm ready for a proper mission yet."

Chrom shrugged, unconcerned. "Then come along. If there's any fighting, stay clear of it, but you can observe at least. Some lessons are best learned on the battlefield."

"If you think that's wise, Captain," Sumia said, nodding.

"Alright then, get some rest. Vaike, can you notify Stahl? I bet you'll find him in the mess hall. Sumia, can you drop by the stables and tell Sully?" Chrom instructed. I'm going to head back to the castle and see if I can find Miriel."

Vaike and Sumia both nodded and set off. Robin turned, and to his surprise, the dark-haired man must have left too, as he was nowhere in sight.


	4. Chapter 2: Regna Ferox

**Chapter 2: Regna Ferox**

"Good morning, Robin!" Chrom called cheerfully, as Robin joined the rest of the Shepherds in the courtyard. Robin rubbed his eyes blearily and noticed that the sun was only barely peeking over the horizon. He had expected the courtyard to be empty a while longer, but Chrom, Lissa, Frederick, Sully, Sumia, and Vaike were already there. Vaike and Chrom appeared to be sparring, while Frederick and Sully were performing various calisthenics. Lissa and Sumia looked to be going through the supplies one last time before departure.

"Good morning," Robin answered drowsily. "Sorry, I only just woke up," he apologized, stifling a yawn.

"No worries, Frederick's morning exercises will wake you right up!" Lissa said cheerfully.

"Actually, milady, as our tactician, I believe it is Robin's responsibility to check through our supplies before we leave. As much as I appreciate your willingness to help, I believe you should leave Robin to his work and partake in our exercise routine yourself," Frederick suggested. Lissa chose not to dignify his suggestion with a verbal response, and instead simply stuck her tongue out at him before going back to digging through the supplies.

Going through the supplies didn't take long, and a few minutes later, Robin joined Frederick and Sully in their exercises. At Frederick's insistence, Lissa and Sumia followed suit, rather reluctantly. After about half an hour, Robin began to understand Lissa's aversion – they hadn't even left the castle and already his entire body was sore.

"Alright, let's get going!" Chrom said, apparently tired of the sparring. Vaike was panting on the ground, entirely out of breath. Apparently the match had proved rather one-sided. The only new addition to their group was Virion, who Sully had been making a great effort towards ignoring.

"What about the others, milord?" Frederick asked.

"They will catch up," Chrom said with a shrug. "We'll set an easy pace until they do." With that, the Shepherds set off, with only a single castle worker in tow, driving the oxen-pulled wagon with their supplies.

Less than half an hour later, the Shepherds heard a loud shout from behind them.

"Wait for me! Wait!" Another young man, this one with short brown hair and dark green armor, mounted on a brown stallion, was racing to catch up to them.

"Careful there, Stahl," Frederick warned. "You don't want to tire your mount out too fast."

Stahl obediently hopped off the poor mount, grumbling. "Why am I the last to hear about the expedition to Ferox?"

"Huh?" Lissa asked, surprised. "But wasn't Vaike supposed to…" she trailed off as realization set in. "Vaike! Did you forget to tell Stahl about our mission?"

Vaike had the decency to adopt a mildly sheepish expression. "The Vaike never forgets! I just, don't always remember, is all…"

"Ugh. I swear, you'd forget your own name if you weren't constantly saying it yourself," Lissa pouted. "Speaking of which, are you sure you remembered your axe this time?"

"Hey!" Vaike protested angrily. "That was one time! Okay, maybe twice, but training sessions don't count! Anyways, it's right here," he said, presenting his axe. "Teach is loaded and ready for action!" He turned to Stahl. "Glad to have you along, Stahl, ol' buddy!"

Stahl groaned. "Well, that makes one of us. I was in such a hurry I forgot breakfast! There were muffins, and cakes, and…"

"Your name is Stahl, right?" interrupted Robin.

"Ah! You must be Robin. Miriel told me about you before I left." Stahl then turned to Chrom. "Speaking of which, Miriel said she'd be along shortly."

Chrom nodded. "Good. By the way, Robin," he said, turning to the tactician, "Miriel is one of our mages. She's a little bit eccentric but quite clever."

"Milord! Risen up ahead!" Frederick warned suddenly.

"Risen?" Robin asked curiously.

"The undead monsters from before. Our encounter with them in the woods was not the only sighting of them," answered Chrom. "Frederick and I thought they needed a name, especially if we're going to be seeing more of them. But I had no idea they'd spread this quickly," Chrom continued, gesturing to the shambling creatures on the field below them. Unlike the pack from the woods who had all carried axes, some of these risen carried swords and lances instead, and were spread out, wandering aimlessly.

"We'll have to clear them out," Frederick remarked. "We can't let them roam until they happen upon a village."

Chrom nodded his assent. "Everyone, stay alert! Remember what we're up against!" And with that he started down the road, the shepherds in tow.

"Ha! They'll remember ME once I drive my axe into their…" Vaike began to boast, but he trailed off, a look of horror sprawled across his face. "My axe! Where's my axe?"

"This is no time for jokes Vaike!" Chrom berated angrily.

"I'm serious! I just had it a minute ago!" Vaike said defensively.

"Keep to the rear with Sumia then," Frederick said quickly, as the risen had spotted the approaching shepherds. "Now move!"

Frederick led the charge immediately, with Sully and Stahl in tow, the three riders rushing down the field towards the nearest group.

"Wait!" Robin cried, hoping to stall their charge. To his surprise, Frederick did stop, the other two riders following suit. "Frederick, leave those on the hill to Chrom and I. Cut across the field with Sully and Stahl and drive back those swordsmen!" Robin instructed, gesturing towards a slightly farther group of risen. There four risen there, three of them carrying rusty blades, and the last clutching a pole arm. "Virion!" Robin added. "Follow Chrom and me, but not too closely."

"But of course, my egregious commander," Virion answered smoothly.

Frederick glanced across at the other force, then nodded to confirm that he had heard Robin, before leading Stahl and Sully towards them. The three axe-bearing risen they had closed in on made to give chase at first, but turned around when Robin and Chrom approached.

"Why'd you send them over there?" Chrom questioned as they drew closer. At the pace they were moving, he and Robin would meet the risen in the middle of a small copse of trees.

"These risen carry axes," Robin answered. "The heavier weapons are sturdy enough to parry lances easily. Frederick and Sully would fare better against the swordsmen, where their reach gives them the advantage. Besides, you and I can move through the woods more easily than their horses can."

Chrom shrugged. "Good thinking, but we may be outnumbered here." Then he frowned. "I guess we'd be outnumbered anyways."

Predictably, the trained Shepherds managed to handle the risen rather easily. Robin retreated after bringing down his first foe, when a second managed to land a glancing blow on him. Virion proved to be of little help – his attention rested solely on the riders across the field. Robin looked on enviously as Chrom, clearly a more talented swordsman, easily dispatched the remaining two. Lissa came rushing towards him, but he forestalled her help, drawing forth a small pouch from his belt instead. Across the field, the riders had cleaned up the other group and were returning. But the battle wasn't over yet – a dozen more of the risen had noticed them from across a nearby river, and were marching over the narrow bridge.

"Excellent!" A stern voice sounded behind him. A woman with dark red hair and pair of spectacles stood there, dressed in black and forest green robes. "It seems my timing was perhaps a mote short of perfection. But that is of little consequence," she said, talking to herself.

"Miriel!" Lissa called. The mage acknowledged Lissa's greeting with a slight nod, but her attention remained on the risen.

"Now, to extirpate these brutes," she announced, as she started making her way down the field.

"Miriel!" Robin interrupted.

"Ah, you must be Robin, the tactician Chrom appointed rather unceremoniously," the bespectacled woman said, turning to him.

"Yes, that's me. Look, gather Virion, the clown with the long light-blue hair over there, and head to the bridge. I'll ask Frederick to try to hold the risen at the bridge. When you two catch up, we can clear them out from a safe distance.

Miriel acknowledged his instructions with a nod, then paused. "Hmm? Is that an axe?" She gestured towards a shining object laying on the meadow a short distance away. "Perhaps someone mislaid it," she said, as she lifted it from the ground.

"My axe!" Vaike cried. He raced over to Miriel, who glared at him.

"I wondered what manner of ignoramus would mislay their weapon," Miriel remarked. "Now I know."

"Thanks, Miriel!" Vaike said cheerfully, before wresting his axe from her grip and rushing down towards the bridge. In the meantime, Virion had finally snapped to attention upon seeing a signal from Miriel. The two of them rushed to the bridge, as Robin and Chrom set off to regroup with their victorious cavalry. Robin quickly outlined his plan, and the knights set off, only just beating the other Shepherds to the bridge.

Frederick, Chrom, Vaike, Stahl, and Sully carried out Robin's instructions beautifully, striking the nearest foes and retreating repeatedly to keep their risen foes from retaliating. With their foes distracted, Robin, Virion, and Miriel launched a barrage of magical lightning and fire, punctuated with arrows, cutting the rest of the risen down quickly. By the time Lissa and Sumia caught up with the supply caravan, the battle was over.

"Good riddance," Chrom said, as he strolled away from the piles of ash the risen had left behind.

"Indeed. These risen are a blight upon our land," Frederick remarked, a trace of bitterness in his tone. "We will need to remain vigilant – no road is truly safe now."

When the supply caravan, Robin immediately distributed medical supplies to those who needed them. Frederick had packed several pouches of vulnerary herbs and bandages. According to Lissa, her staff was limited in power. It seemed prudent to conserve its magic if possible, and rely on conventional healing methods. Thankfully, none of the others had suffered more than a few minor scrapes and cuts, and the gash on his own arm was the worst of it. Before long, they were on the road again.

* * *

A few hours later, they came to a river just as the sun began to set. "A good place to set up camp," Chrom commented. "Get some rest, everyone. We have no idea what tomorrow will bring."

Apart from Frederick and Sully, the Shepherds were tired and grateful for the reprieve. Less than half an hour, Frederick was calmly roasting a wild boar over an open fire, while numerous tents had been set along the riverbank.

Robin frowned as he approached Frederick uneasily. In their battle with the risen, his lack of experience with the blade definitely showed. Frederick still distrusted him, but was clearly the most experienced fighter in the group, not to mention the most experienced instructor. "Frederick," he greeted hesitantly.

"Yes, Robin?" Frederick answered calmly, as he continued turning the roasting boar. His attention, though, remained on Vaike, Stahl, and Virion who were playing some sort of card game a short distance away.

"I have a request," Robin began. "I carry a sword, but I'm afraid my skills aren't quite up to par."

Frederick turned to Robin, surprised. "You would ask me to train you? Robin, you've proved yourself a credible tactician already, and your magical talents more than compensate for your inexperience with the blade."

"Maybe," Robin said, unconvinced. "But there are situations in which another capable swordsman could prove valuable."

Frederick nodded slowly. "If you'd like me to train you, then I will be glad to assist. I will find you when we have time. But for now, you should rest." With that, he turned his attention back to the campfire.

"Thanks," Robin said. Silently, he wondered what he was getting himself into, remembering the morning's exercise routine. But it was for the best, wasn't it?

* * *

The evening's meal proved far more acceptable to Lissa than the roasted bear from the night in the woods. The Shepherds chattered cheerfully. Winning battles decisively had that effect on soldiers, Chrom mused. Though his own career as a warrior was short, he had seen the aftermath of a battle gone south, and was glad that, so far, they've avoided the heavy atmosphere of grief and doubt that accompanied costly skirmishes.

The Shepherds were more than just friends, he decided. They were family. And it put his heart at ease to see his family at peace. He looked around, happy to see the others engrossed in their conversations. Interestingly enough, most of the Shepherds were about the same age, having seen just a couple decades of life. Robin looked to be his own age, as did the tagalong archer, Virion. Lissa was a couple years younger, Miriel, Vaike, and Frederick a couple years older. "Just like normal soldiers," Chrom noted quietly. Young, reckless, and ready to serve their homeland. Hopefully he wouldn't let them down.

Not long after they set up camp, Robin had noticed a stack of books in the back of the supply caravan. As it turns out, the books belonged to Sumia, who was an avid reader. He asked to borrow some, particularly those relating to strategy or military history, and had turned in for the night early, clutching a small tome. "He does seem quite driven," Chrom muttered aloud. If Robin could continue to deliver such clean victories to the Shepherds, even a dangerous road didn't look quite so long.

As the night grew darker, the Shepherds began to disperse for the night. After stifling a strong urge to yawn, Chrom decided it was time for him to turn in for the night as well. But as he walked towards his tent, he realized that he should check on the animals – the horses and oxen were tethered to trees a short distance from the camp.

A few hundred feet of the camp, he suddenly lost his footing. He tried to catch himself, but the ground caught up to him first.

"Captain!"

Chrom crawled to his feet and turned, surprised to see Sumia racing towards him.

"Are you alright?" the girl asked, seemingly on the verge on panic.

"I'm fine," he reassured. "I tripped over a pebble, that's all," he said, as he brushed the dirt from his clothes, and kicked the offending stone away.

"It's because you're exhausted!" Sumia said. "You've been working too hard lately!" Chrom looked at her, surprised – she was more assertive than he had expected, given her normal stammering and nervousness.

"A bit," Chrom admitted. "But so is everyone else. Fighting wears on everyone pretty quickly."

"Maybe, but you're not just fighting, you're also our leader," Sumia continued. "You carry a burden far greater than anyone else."

"It's kind of you to say so," Chrom said gently. "But everyone looks to their commander for inspiration. Tired or not, I have to stay strong."

Sumia shook her head. "I can't imagine what it's like… but that's only more reason for you to get some more rest, Captain. There's no need to pretend."

"But there is," Chrom countered. "We're facing a war. If things worsen, we need capable leaders. Emmeryn can't be left standing alone."

"Neither can you," Sumia insisted. "We're here for you, remember? Every one of us."

Chrom couldn't help but smile at that. "Alright. You win. I'll make sure to get plenty of rest tonight. I'm just going to go check on the animals, then I'll head straight to my tent. Alright?"

"You'll head back to your tent now," Sumia proclaimed. "I'll go check on the animals for you." Chrom looked ready to protest again, but Sumia cut him off. "Unless you want the entire camp to hear that our mighty leader was bested by a pebble," she added, with a sly grin.

"You know, this is beginning to sound like blackmail," Chrom protested weakly.

"Good night, Chrom!" Sumia insisted, waving cheerfully as she walked away.

* * *

"Up and at them, Robin."

Robin yawned and rubbed his eyes. He had hoped getting to bed a little earlier would make it easier to wake in the mornings, but it felt like he had only just fallen asleep before Frederick's voice called him back to consciousness.

He donned his cloak before crawling out of his tent. To his surprise, it was still dark out.

"Frederick?" he asked, slightly confused.

"Good morning, Robin. Sorry to wake you a bit early, but I was fortunate enough to finish my chores early, and thought it would be a good time for those lessons you asked for. Now, come along," Frederick said, matter-of-factly, as he strolled down towards the woods. "We wouldn't want to wake the others with the inevitable noise."

Robin silently reminded himself that this _was_ his own idea. There was no graceful way to back out now, and we was already awake, anyways. He brushed away a few feeble excuses that came to mind before following Frederick into the nearby woods. An hour later, every muscle in Robin's body was sore, and those feeble excuses suddenly sounded far more reasonable. He had found Frederick's morning exercises difficult, but his training routine was absolutely brutal.

"Pay attention to your stance, Robin," Frederick insisted, as he continued striking at Robin with a sword-length wooden pole. "You're leaving yourself dangerously exposed." A few more blows later and Robin's pole flew from his grip. "Mind your grip – your movements are awkward and with each parry, you find yourself in a more difficult position. You're anticipating my attacks well but you need to prepare yourself for the blows better. It's not simply a matter of putting your blade in front of mine. Angle your blade more carefully, and prepare yourself so that your motions can connect fluidly. Again!"

By the time the sun peeked over the horizon, Robin and Frederick had sparred for over two hours. Finally, Robin collapsed, heart racing, gasping for fresh air. "I… think… I'm… dying…" he managed between gasps.

"You're exaggerating, I hope," Frederick remarked. His breathing was steady, but the beads of sweat on his forehead convinced Robin that, maybe, just maybe, the knight was human after all. "Your form has improved drastically though – you are quite the natural with the sword."

"I suppose…" Robin managed. He had managed to slow his breathing slightly, but was still feeling a bit light-headed. "This is exhausting," he said with another groan.

"You will grow stronger," Frederick assured. "I'll wake you half an hour earlier tomorrow and you can join me for my morning jog." Robin's expression became one of alarm.

"Thanks, but," Robin began, frantically searching for an excuse.

"No buts. We'll make a fine swordsman out of you," Frederick said cheerfully before heading back towards camp.

Robin watched as Frederick briskly marched back. It only occurred to him then that throughout their training, Frederick hadn't made a single comment about his amnesia. Perhaps he was finally coming around. "If I'm really lucky, I might enough survive becoming friends with him," Robin remarked dryly, before trudging towards the camp himself.

* * *

They continued their march, which proved thankfully uneventful. On the morning of the fourth day, Chrom announced that they were expected to reach Regna Ferox by the afternoon, and the Shepherds, with exception of an exhausted tactician, continued with a renewed spring in their step. To be fair, it wasn't entirely Frederick's fault this time. As the training regimen became routine, it began to feel slightly less tiring. But on the first night of the journey, he had asked to borrow some books from Sumia. Sumia's collection was mostly fiction, and she was rather distraught when she realized she couldn't help Robin. To placate her, Robin quickly asked for one of the fictional adventure novels instead, which he set aside.

The night before, curiosity got the best of him, and he spent the evening engrossed in a tale of rogues and wyverns traveling the wilds. That proved another decision he would quickly regret, as his morning training proved twice as miserable when he was half-asleep to begin with.

The weather had grown colder over the past few days, and by midday, they were treading upon a freshly fallen blanket of snow. Still, the Shepherds were undaunted, and their spirits only lifted further when Frederick pointed out their destination was in sight.

"It's probably less than five miles out," Chrom announced, as he gestured towards the rather drab fortress in the distance. Vaike cheered – annoying as he could be at times, he was always in a contagiously bright mood.

Robin joined the cheers, until a sudden motion a few hundred feet to the left of their path caught his attention. He relaxed when he noticed it was a large animal of some sort. Its exact shape was hard to make out, as it was as white as the snow around it.

"Robin?" Chrom asked, noticing the tactician had stopped.

"Oh! Sorry," Robin said. "I just noticed there was something over there. An animal of some sort, I think." Only Chrom and Lissa had heard, and both looked in the direction Robin was pointing.

"I think it's a Pegasus!" Lissa said suddenly, excited. That got the attention of the rest of the Shepherds. She then took off, running over to get a closer look.

Chrom shrugged. "We'll be right back," he told the other Shepherds, as he and Robin raced to catch up to Lissa.

Lissa had come to a stop several feet away from creature. It was definitely a Pegasus. The magnificent horse had lustrous white hair, a full but unkempt mane, and two wings of large, white feathers. The creature eyed them as they closed in but otherwise remained still.

"It's a Pegasus alright," Chrom said. "But I think it's hurt. Look at its leg." One of the Pegasus's hind legs was bent rather awkwardly. Chrom approached the animal carefully, fumbling for his pouch of medical supplies. But the Pegasus had other ideas. As he closed in, it reared up in a panic and flailed its front legs at the approaching man, letting out a short cry.

"Whoa!" Chrom said, backing up instantly. "Easy there!"

"Captain!" Sumia said, catching up to them.

"I'm alright, I'm fine," Chrom said, his voice a bit shaky. Sumia's gaze was transfixed on the Pegasus though. "Sumia!" Chrom cried, as Sumia slid past him and approached the animal.

"It's alright!" she assured him, as she removed her right gauntlet and extended her hand. The Pegasus eyed her nervously for a bit, but there was no sign of the violent reaction Chrom had elicited.

Chrom, Lissa, and Robin looked on in awe as Sumia gently stroked the Pegasus's mane. "Easy now, girl. I won't hurt you," she said quietly.

"How did you do that?" Chrom asked, dumbfounded.

"I have a way with animals," Sumia said nonchalantly. "You all go on ahead – I'll dress her wounds and we can catch up as soon as we can."

"Are you sure?" Robin asked, clearly uneasy about leaving their least experienced soldier alone in the wild.

"Positive," Sumia answered calmly, still stroking the Pegasus.

With a shrug, Chrom passed over the pouch he still held. "Stay safe, Sumia. And take your time," he said, also a bit nervous. And with that, he led Robin and Lissa back to the waiting Shepherds.

* * *

Within a few hours, the Shepherds found themselves standing in the shadow of their destination. Regna Ferox may have appeared drab from a distance, but the up close, the fortress was foreboding and intimidating. The howling winds certainly didn't make the Shepherds feel any more comfortable.

"This is the Longfort," Chrom explained. "It stretches along the border of Ylisse and Regna Ferox. Our destination lies just beyond this gate."

"The khans that rule Ferox have grown quite wary of foreigners. They may not be as hospitable as you're expecting," he reminded the group. "But don't mistake it for open hostility." Turning to Chrom, he added, "Milord, this simply calls for a little tact and diplomacy."

Chrom acknowledged the reminder with a nod. "I know, Frederick. Negotiation's not my strongest suit but I'll do my best."

As they approached the wall, though, the mood became considerably grimmer, as a javelin was thrown from the wall, landing only a few paces away from Chrom.

"Halt!" a voice demanded. The commander, a rather tall woman in heavy armor, stepped to the edge of the ramparts above. "Who goes there?" she demanded.

"In the name of House Ylisse, we've come seeking an audience with the khans," Chrom shouted back. It was impossible to be heard over the wind otherwise.

"Not another step!" the commander cried out, as Chrom stepped closer to ensure he could be heard.

"Hold, milady!" Frederick pleaded. "Exalt Emmeryn herself sent us to discuss matters of mutual interest!"

"My only interest is to keep you brigands out of Regna Ferox!" the woman retorted fiercely.

"We are not brigands!" Chrom protested. "I am Prince Chrom of Ylisse, accompanied only by those who have willingly put their lives at risk to defend our halidom!"

"Hah! A likely tale!" the woman jeered. "You claim to be a prince of Ylisse? Then prove it the Feroxi way: on the battlefield!"

Frederick and Chrom flinched – this was certainly not part of the plan. But before they could protest, the commander shouted out an order, and the Feroxi soldiers readied their javelins.

"Chrom! Frederick! Get back!" Robin shouted. Frederick reacted immediately, pushing Chrom back, before retreating himself. But he had underestimated the range of the javelins thrown. Chrom staggered to his feet, just as several more javelins flew straight towards him.

Something white streaked across the battlefield, whisking Chrom away just in time. Robin and Frederick followed the blur, panicked, before realizing what it was. Sumia was riding on the back of the Pegasus they had found, clutching Chrom's hand desperately as he dangled from the side of the Pegasus, high up in the air. As the Pegasus slowed its ascent, Sumia managed to help Chrom climb onto the Pegasus's back as well.

"Better hold on tight," she warned, as the Pegasus went into a dive, landing carefully amidst the rest of the Shepherds.

"That was timely," Chrom said faintly.

Sumia smiled, her usual nervousness setting in now that the adrenaline rush was over. "I-I'm just glad we made it. In time, I mean," she stammered.

"Is this really that same Pegasus we met on the road?" Robin asked curiously. The Pegasus wasn't even limping, although there were a few bandages on her previously wounded leg. Sumia had evidently groomed her, as well, for the mane was now spotless and orderly.

"She's a real sweetheart, aren't you, Caeda?" Sumia said, gently petting her newest friend, any trace of nervousness gone now that the subject had turned to her surprising mount.

"Very touching," Frederick commented distractedly. "But I think it's best if we direct our attention to the Feroxi."

"Right," Chrom said, his face set with grim determination. He turned and watched as some soldiers filed down the narrow staircases. "The Feroxi way it is!"

* * *

The battle proved a short one. Robin knew it was best not to harm their enemies more than necessary. He divided the force into two groups, one for each of the stairways the Feroxi were approaching from. Once their enemies were sufficiently distracted, Sumia flew Chrom up to the top where he could challenge the enemy commander directly.

Robin led Stahl and Virion to his side. After a quick skirmish with the first pair of soldiers to greet them, he felt vindicated for his efforts to train with Frederick – their first opponents were beaten soundly, without ever getting close to landing a blow on Robin. Stahl was less fortunate, a stray arrow catching him on the arm, but his armor took the brunt of the attack.

And then, to Robin's surprise, additional reinforcements for the Shepherds arrived in the form of the dark-haired shepherd he had met back in Ylisse. The man's oversized armor shielded him from the worst of his foes, and with his help, the Feroxi found themselves surrounded and struggling.

"Who are you?" Robin asked curiously, as the fighting came to an end.

"Kellam, sir!" the man answered. "I'm a Shepherd… or at least I was. I think I still am? It's quite the honor after all, I'd hate to lose it…"

"How did you get here?" Robin asked, confused.

"I've been with you all the whole time," Kellam answered. "I guess I am a bit easy to miss…"

Robin looked at Kellam incredulously. How anyone could move so quietly in such a large and heavy suit of armor was beyond him. But now that he thought about it, he had noticed an extra tent each night. In fact, he may even have seen Kellam walking through the camp once or twice.

A shout from a Feroxi soldier brought him back to reality – Chrom had captured the Feroxi commander, and the battle was over.

* * *

"A thousand apologies, Prince Chrom," the female commander, Raimi by name, pleaded. "I truly mistook you for brigand imposters. I'm afraid the bandits have been plaguing our doorstep for months."

"No harm done," Chrom said agreeably, accepting the apology. Only a couple Feroxi soldiers had been seriously wounded, and both were expected to survive. The Shepherds had escaped relatively unscathed, despite the vicious reputation that accompanied the Feroxi warriors.

"Allow me to escort you to the khan," Raimi said, bowing once more.

"Honor is incredibly important to the Feroxi," Frederick explained sagely, as they followed Raimi towards the castle. "By defeating her in single combat, Chrom has earned her respect."

"The same principles holds true for the khans. Naturally, the Feroxi are led by their strongest and most honorable warriors," Chrom added, as they stepped into the castle.

Robin peered around the audience chamber. To his surprise, the person waiting for them was a woman. Her blond hair was tied in a single ponytail, in a rather ragged fashion, and she wore a suit of crimson and silver armor. She was about the same height as Chrom, and looked to be about the same age as Frederick. Her tanned, muscular arms were exposed, save for a pair of bracers. She had a rather fierce look about her. Not quite the warrior leader Robin had been imagining, but she certainly appeared formidable nonetheless.

"Khan Flavia, I present to you, Prince Chrom of Ylisse," Raimi announced.

The khan eyed her guests for a moment, noting the signs of recent exertion. Then, to Chrom's surprise and Frederick's consternation, she tossed her head back and laughed. "Welcome, mighty prince! I apologize for any troubles you may have encountered at our borders," she finished with a broad grin. "Welcome to Ferox."

"Thank you. I'm sure we can put that misunderstanding behind us. But tell me, is it true that bandits have been ransacking your border villages?" Chrom asked.

"Plegians," Flavia spat. "We managed to hunt down on their leaders. It appears Plegia sent them to stir up some bad blood between your kingdom and ours."

Chrom groaned. "Damn those cowardly cretins." Frederick shot him a quick glare, as if to remind him he was in the presence of their neighborly kingdom's ruler. "Forgive me, your grace," Chrom added quickly, getting the message. "I forgot myself for a moment."

But the khan simply waved away the apology. "Don't sweat it, Prince. Here in Ferox, we appreciate plain speech. There's no need for flowery language; I'd sooner you speak sincerely," she finished, again with a broad smile.

"In that case, you should have a word with your border guards," Chrom said with a smirk. Frederick was shocked, but Flavia merely burst out laughing.

"I like you already." She turned to the border commander who still stood quietly by. "Raimi – please show Chrom's men to the guest quarters. I'd say we owe them a bit of hospitality at least for the trouble you put them through."

Several of the Shepherds noticeably relaxed at those words. "Thank you," Chrom responded. These negotiations certainly seemed to be going well. As the others made to leave, he quickly gestured for Frederick and Robin to stay. "By the way, this is my loyal retainer and friend, Frederick, a knight of Ylisse. And with him is Robin, our tactician."

Flavia nodded, acknowledging the other two, before continuing. "I think I know why you've come, Prince. We are aware of Plegia's aggressive troop movements, and the Grimleal have been seen once more. You've come to secure our aid should war befall Ylisse. Am I right?"

"Indeed," Chrom answered simply.

Flavia shook her head sadly. "Regrettably, I cannot provide any Feroxi troops to Ylisse right now." Her sincerity and the unusual decision took the three Shepherds aback.

"I'm afraid I don't understand," Frederick finally said. "You must see the threat of Plegia as clearly as we do, your grace."

"I do," Flavia admitted. "But I lack the authority." Noting Chrom's look of surprise, she went on quickly. "Ferox is ruled by two khans. Decisions critical to the wellbeing of our entire country fall to the reigning khan, the victor of our annual tournament. While my predecessor, the former east-khan, was the sovereign during the last Plegian war, I'm afraid that last year, the west-khan's challengers proved superior."

"So, you can't help us at all?" Robin asked.

"I can't help you right now," Flavia clarified. "And the west-khan is quite the oaf. I can't promise that he'd see things quite the same way you or I do. But fortunately, the next tournament is only three days from now. Your timing is quite fortunate."

"So, if you win, you'll help us?" Chrom asked. "Is there any way we can help?"

Flavia smiled shrewdly. "I thought you'd never ask. As a matter of fact, the tournament is fought by handpicked champions. And outsiders have frequently been chosen. Although, the foreigners have never included foreign royalty, to my knowledge," she finished, laughing once more.

Chrom's eyes widened as he understood her request. "You want me to champion you in this tournament," he stated.

Flavia shrugged. "You defeated Raimi, did you not? You are certainly capable. And besides, with the alliance I am offering you on the line, well, let's just say champions always fight harder when they have something to fight for."

Frederick made to protest but Chrom waved him back to silence. "You are right, Khan Flavia. My people need your help, and so I will indeed do whatever it takes."

Flavia clapped Chrom on the shoulders enthusiastically, having received the answer she wanted. "Then it's settled! But be warned – the west-khan's champion last year was his right-hand man, an incredibly gifted swordsman. This year, he's chosen another champion, one reputedly even stronger."

"It matters not," Chrom answered, determination in his voice. "He shall be defeated by Ylisse's necessity."

* * *

Khan Flavia proved generous, extending whatever courtesies she could to the Shepherds. But the Feroxi way of life was rather different – a warm fire, cool water in which to bathe, and hard cots in which to sleep were pretty much all they had to offer. Feroxi cuisine seemed to consist almost entirely of cabbage and smoked or salted meat – crops didn't seem to grow too well in their rocky soil.

On the second day, Robin did notice an empty guest room, furnished with thick fur blankets, a soft bed, decorated wooden chairs, and a heated bath. He asked Raimi about it curiously, who took no offense at the question.

"The room is reserved for guests of particular importance, but who we feel don't truly belong," she explained. "Though foreigners see it as luxury, the Feroxi see it as nothing more than weakness. Khan Flavia has afforded the Shepherds significant respect by asking us to house you in the rooms designed to accommodate our own people. The prince's room is in fact the room that is usually offered to the west-khan himself when he visits to challenge the east-khan. But of course, this year, the challenge will be in the west-khan's arena."

Robin had seen Chrom's room, but it had seemed precisely the same as the other rooms. He shrugged and thanked Raimi for the kind explanation. Feroxi customs were unusual, but after camping in the wilds for every night he could remember, save the one night in Ylisstol, even the hard cots were a welcome reprieve.

* * *

On the morning of the third day, Chrom instructed Lissa and Frederick to go rouse the rest of the Shepherds. Flavia had told him the night before they were leaving at daybreak, so they could reach the west-khan's arena before noon. Thankfully, the two arenas and castles were relatively close.

Most of the Shepherds roused easily. Vaike required a bit of shouting to awaken, but Sully had been wide awake already. To Lissa's surprise though, Robin didn't answer his door when she knocked. Robin had definitely become accustomed to waking early after training with Frederick in the mornings. She knocked again, before finally opening the door.

She was shocked to see Robin sitting at a hard wooden desk instead of lying on his cot. His chin rested on a large, dusty tome. "You must be really wiped out," she commented quietly. Robin didn't stir. On one hand, she felt bad for the tactician – he was really giving his all to the Shepherds. On the other hand, he really did need to relax a little bit. She grinned as she slowly reached out and suddenly pinched his nose shut.

"Argh!" Robin cried, coming awake instantly. He seemed to jump slightly in his chair, too, and the uneven stool he had been perched upon toppled over, unceremoniously dumping him on the hard wooden floor. "Risen! Wolves!" he cried, before he realized it was only Lissa standing over him, laughing wildly. "Lissa?"

"S-Sorry," she stammer, between tears of laughter. "I tried to resist! But you're so uptight ever since Chrom made you our tactician… oh no!" she said, realizing that Robin had accidentally knocked over a small pot of ink, which was oozing onto the tome.

"What?" Robin asked, climbing to his feet. When he saw the tome he was horror-struck. He rushed forward, pulling it away from a pool of ink. "Oh man, Flavia's going to kill me!" he moaned, as he wiped off what he could.

Lissa frowned as she saw the title of the book – "A History of Feroxi Warfare," she read aloud.

"Yea, I was hoping to get a grasp of their battlefield tactics for when they're fighting by our side," Robin explained. He turned to her angrily. "Why would you wake me like that?"

"It… it was just a joke!" Lissa protested feebly. She did feel rather guilty.

"And you're supposed to be a princess," Robin groaned. "Is this how your parents raised you?" Lissa's face fell at that remark, and Robin noticed he must have unintentionally struck a nerve. "Um… sorry. Sorry, Lissa, I didn't mean to…" he stuttered.

"I never really knew my parents," Lissa admitted. Then she smiled. "Don't worry though, I know you didn't mean anything by it. Sorry about the book though," she said, staring at the dusty and wet tome.

"I think it'll be alright," Robin said thoughtfully. "I don't think anyone's ever read this book until Flavia lent it to me, anyhow. Or any other book in Flavia's library, for that matter."

* * *

The Shepherds and Khan Flavia's entourage arrived at the arena a few short hours later. A great feast had been prepared, although the reigning khan was absent. "Tradition," Flavia explained. "We face his champion in the arena first. After the fight, the khans and the surviving champions will meet." Unlike the rather limited Feroxi cooking that had been offered before, the west-khan must have gone to great lengths to impress his guests. Various imported vegetables and fruits were spread across the wide tables. The stews were made with many exotic spices, and in addition to the staples of the Feroxi diet, pork and mutton, there was also a surprising variety of game. Stahl was particularly excited, although Robin couldn't help but notice that Lissa and Frederick both sat as far from the hunk of roasted bear as possible. "I guess Frederick's not quite an adventurous eater," Robin said to himself, grinning.

He hadn't meant to be heard, but Sumia was sitting close enough to overhear. "You mean, Frederick the Great can't stand bear? After all his lectures about unpleasant experiences and building character?" she asked, laughing.

After the meal, the Shepherds filed into the arena stands, supporting their captain eagerly. Everyone seemed confident that Chrom would win easily, but Sumia still appeared rather nervous. At the entrance to the arena itself, Lissa, Frederick, and Robin had followed a bit closer, offering their silent support. But the day had another surprise in store for them.

The west-khan's champion stepped into the arena from the opposite gate. A slight figure with dark raven-blue hair, a finely tailored blue tunic, and a mysterious black mask.

"Chrom, look!" Lissa cried out, recognizing her savior from the night in the woods. "It's Marth!"

"I see him," Chrom said.

* * *

The cheering struck Robin as rather morbid. One of the two champions could easily die in the arena if the fight went on too long, Flavia had warned them. And yet there was no fear in the eyes of the Feroxi spectators, only excitement.

Down in the arena below, Chrom called out to his opponent. "Marth! One question, before we begin?" Marth didn't answer, and simply rested a hand upon the hilt of his sheathed blade. A scabbard and hilt that still looked awfully familiar to Robin. "Fine then," Chrom said, when it was clear he wasn't going to get an answer. "Our swords can speak for us!"

With that, Chrom leapt forward, drawing his own sword in a single fluid motion, and slashing downwards. Marth mirrored the movement perfectly, drawing his own blade and leaping forward as well. Chrom had expected to simply overpower the smaller warrior, but Marth matched his blow easily and the two reached a stalemate.

Only then did Chrom realize something – the sword Marth held was identical to his own. He backed away in shock. "That sword… where did you get that sword?" he demanded.

For the first time since Marth entered the arena, he answered. "My father!" Marth cried, as he thrust his blade forward. As Chrom shifted to parry the straightforward attack though, he realized he had seen the stance and technique before. Trusting his instincts, he adjusted his footing and halfway through the parry, he slid his blade to the side instead. Sure enough, Marth's thrust had been a feint; the devious warrior pivoted and slashed horizontally instead.

Still shaken by the sight of his opponent's weapon, Chrom had only narrowly parried the clever blow. He extracted himself from the fight behind his parry. He had so many more questions for this opponent, but Marth wasn't wasting any time. Marth advanced, thrusting forward and forcing Chrom further back, until Chrom found his back to the arena wall.

As his elbow grazed the wall, Chrom realized he was in trouble. In that moment he heard the cheering of his Shepherds, and a series of loud swearing that could only be Khan Flavia. "I can't let them down," Chrom muttered.

Finally, Chrom began to strike back. He launched himself into a series of advanced attacks and counterattacks, techniques that were taught to the elite swordsmen of Ylisse. Marth was familiar with Chrom's attack routines though, and met every slash, slice, and thrust with the appropriate parry. Another surprise, Chrom thought grimly. Marth was well-versed in Ylissean sword techniques. Thankfully, Chrom wasn't quite out of options yet.

As Marth executed a quick and clean double parry, slapping Chrom's blade aside, Chrom dove to the side as if to retreat. Marth followed hastily with another quick thrust, but Chrom wasn't trying to move away. He leapt forward, past Marth, beating his opponent's extended blade, before launching a backhanded slash at the opponent now behind him. It was one of his own techniques that he developed over the past few months.

To his surprise, Marth had predicted the unusual move and dropped to the sandy floor. Chrom's blade swung over the prone Marth, slamming into the wall instead. Unfortunately for Marth, the blade bit deep into the wall. The audience roared in applause as the wall crumbled, chunks of rock burying the fallen warrior as Chrom jumped aside.

The fight was clearly over, and Chrom hurriedly pushed the larger pieces of fallen rock aside, freeing Marth. "Here," Chrom said, helping Marth back to his feet. But before he could ask any of the hundred questions swirling through his mind, Khan Flavia pulled him away firmly, announcing her victory to the cheering audience.

Chrom turned in time to see Marth leaving from the opposite side of the arena. It seemed his answers would have to wait for another day.


	5. Chapter 3: Tidings of War

**Chapter 3: Tidings of War**

Chrom left the arena to a chorus of applause, mostly from the victorious Khan Flavia's supporters. The weary Prince spotted commander Raimi amidst the throng, and thought he recognized several of the border guards as well. Over the course of an hour, the crowd slowly filtered away and Chrom was left with only the new reigning khan and his Shepherds.

The audience gone, Khan Flavia turned to Chrom, her regal demeanor falling away in favor of excitement and giddiness. "Well fought, Chrom!" she congratulated. "As promised, you have your alliance – Ferox will stand by Ylisse in her time of need!"

Reality sunk in, and washed away Chrom's unanswered questions about Marth and the weapon – he had won, and more importantly, he had succeeded. "Truly? Thank you, East-Khan."

"Hah. I should be thanking you, Prince! It feels like ages since I've been the one in charge. Come along, my friends. Tonight, we celebrate!" With that pronouncement, Khan Flavia set off to retrieve her own soldiers and prepare for the march back to her own castle.

"Bah! Any excuse for a party and Flavia jumps on it!" Chrom turned to see a grumbling man approaching. The man was taller than any of the shepherds, close to seven feet in height. His skin was dark, much like Flavia's, and his face was sterner still than the East-Khan's fierce visage. A finely cut eye-patch obscured his left eye. He wore a suit of golden plate, with a layer of dark mail armor visible beneath between the seams. A wild white fur collar completed his impressive ensemble.

"I'm sorry, have we met?" Chrom asked politely. The man had a bitter look about him, and was perhaps the most intimidating man he had ever met. Several of the nearby Shepherds looked on uneasily.

"I'm Khan Basilio. The west-khan you so rudely removed from power, boy!" the man grumbled. Then, to their surprise, the khan smiled. "You're handy with the sword. Congratulations. I thought the man I chose was practically unbeatable."

Seeing an opportunity, Chrom asked, "What do you know about him? Your champion," Chrom clarified, as Basilio adopted a questioning look.

"You mean that 'Marth'? Bah. He's just a sell sword with delusions of grandeur. A capable one, perhaps. He knocked my old champion flat in mere heartbeats. Never thought much of you Ylissean swordsmen, but first Marth and now you!" Basilio ended with a loud laugh. "Though I'm afraid you've been used, boy. I have more sense than to ignore those Plegian dogs at our doorstep. You should've come to me to begin with!" Chrom stuttered, trying to form an apology, but was drowned out by another gale of roaring laughter. "Don't sweat it! It's only a year until the next round, eh?" Basilio continued. The man could clearly carry on a conversation on his own, but Chrom still needed some answers.

"Khan Basilio, where is Marth now?" Chrom asked.

"Gone. Up and left the moment the tournament ended. Strange fellow," Basilio replied. He didn't seem too interested in his defeated champion, but someone else was.

"He's so mysterious…" Lissa said quietly, with a sigh.

"Sounds like Marth has at least one fan," Robin teased, seeking a little bit of payback for his rude awakening that morning.

Lissa glared at him for a moment. Then she rolled her eyes. "Well, I mean, c'mon, he is sort of dreamy, isn't he?"

"And you're sort of dreaming," Chrom shot at her, frustrated.

"Ouch! Lighten up, Chrom, I was kidding!" Lissa said, finally noticing that Chrom seemed rather annoyed about something.

"Milord? Milady?" Frederick interrupted, cutting through the tension. "If this fascinating discussion is over, we'd best prepare ourselves for the journey home. The exalt should be told of our new alliance as soon as possible."

"Right," Chrom acknowledged.

"Hold!" Basilio interrupted. "Before you go boy, I have a present for you. A token of good faith, as some folk would say. Lon'qu!"

A slender man dressed in a simple blue and red tunic approached. His muscular frame was visible through his thick clothes, despite his light frame. He carried a sword of unusual make, with a long curved blade. The weapon hung from a simple belt loop, the blade exposed. His hair was dark, and his face stern. Silently, Robin wondered if everyone in Ferox generally bore the same expression.

"This is Lon'qu, my former champion," Basilio introduced. "Not too talkative but he's the best swordsman I've ever laid eyes on, save for you, Prince, and Marth."

"Marth beat him? But he looks so… fearsome!" Lissa remarked, stepping closer for a better look.

"Away!" Lon'qu barked harshly, and Lissa nearly jumped out of her boots.

"Hey!" Lissa protested, when she realized that was all Lon'qu had to say. "What did I say?"

Basilio laughed. "Ladies tend to put Lon'qu on edge." Lon'qu shot the Khan a hateful glare. "Nonetheless, he's capable. Might even surpass me someday! Anyways, he's all yours for now, Chrom."

"You're certain?" Chrom asked, glancing at the swordsman. The swordsman met his stare silently.

"Of course, boy!" Basilio barked. "Consider him West Ferox's first contribution to our cause."

"And you have no objections, Lon'qu?" Robin added. Basilio couldn't have planned this beforehand unless he had known of Flavia's champion. The plan seemed rather sudden, and he wondered if Lon'qu would feel put upon.

Lon'qu abruptly put that fear to rest. "He gives orders. I stab people. I think our roles are clear."

"Alright then, welcome aboard," Chrom said, extending a hand. Lon'qu stared for a moment before accepting the offered handshake.

* * *

Many of the Shepherds thought they had been "all feasted out" by the end of the festivities before the tournament, but Khan Flavia insisted upon another grand meal when they returned. The table set that night proved even grander, as Flavia was determined to outshine Basilio. The west-khan had been invited of course, and would never willingly miss a feast. He seemed to take the loss in stride, and simply laughed and promised a better performance the following year if anyone asked.

"You know," Chrom said, sitting down beside Robin and Lissa in the corner of the room and setting down a large plate of food. "I have to say I'm surprised. I didn't realize the Feroxi had pastry chefs. Why are you two back here anyways?"

Robin smiled ruefully. "The noise got to me. And our delicate princess has spent a little too long cheering with the others."

"I am not delicate!" Lissa protested hoarsely. Robin and Chrom merely smiled, and continued their meals.

"By the way, Chrom. I've been meaning to ask," Robin began, casually. "When you found me that day on the road, collapsed and without memory, why did you take me in?"

"Well… you said it yourself, you were collapsed and without memory," Chrom answered with a shrug. "What kind of Shepherd would I be if I abandoned you there?"

"Of course… but I've been thinking. It was rather reckless of you, wasn't it?" Robin asked quietly. "It could very well have been a trap."

Chrom shrugged again. "To me, helping someone is worth the risk. That's who I am, Robin."

"Besides," Lissa piped in. Her voice still sounded a tad strained. "It's Frederick's job to be paranoid, Robin, not yours. So just relax!"

Robin smiled, remembering Frederick's earlier treatment of him. For the most part, he and Frederick had put that behind them, and Robin now knew exactly how Frederick felt. "I guess you're right Chrom. You are who you are. It's inspiring, in a way. I've known you for less than two weeks, and already I know I'd gladly suffer any risks for your sake. I suspect the rest of the Shepherds feel the same."

"That goes for me, too," Chrom said with a smile. Then he frowned. "This pie is rather odd – there doesn't seem to be any meat in it at all."

"It's a rhubarb pie," Lissa explained. "I was helping Sumia in the kitchen earlier."

"Strange. I normally hate rhubarb, but this actually tastes pretty good," Chrom commented. "Wait a moment, did you say Sumia was in the kitchen? What on earth for?"

"She offered to help," Lissa replied with a shrug of her own. "Flavia was looking for some help, saying she wanted to make sure the feast was even grander than the one this morning."

"Huh." Chrom remarked, staring at the food. "Sumia's full of surprises isn't she?"

"I helped too!" Lissa protested. Chrom tried to stifle a laugh to spare his sister's feelings, and Robin decided he didn't need to know the extent of Lissa's culinary skills.

A loud commotion on the other side of the room caught their attention.

* * *

"Really, I know I'm not particularly conspicuous, but this is going a bit far…" Kellam grumbled, as most of the others seated at the table roared with laughter. A thoroughly drunk Sully was swiveling back and forth, as if searching for something.

"Kellam, you just need to be a bit less subtle," Frederick advised.

Kellam had just delivered another round of drinks to the table. Stahl, distracted by Virion's grand tales, saw only drinks appearing out of thin air and cried ghost. Several others, equally surprised, took up the cry, until Frederick pointed Kellam out. But apparently, Sully was too drunk to see straight, for she started accusing Frederick of seeing things.

"Yeah… I don't think this armor exactly screams subtlety," Kellam remarked dryly. His armor was at least a few sizes too large, but he had absolutely refused to allow the local smiths in Ylisse to adjust it, claiming sentimental reasons. As an added benefit, the armor clanked heavily as he walked, which he had hoped would help him stand out a little.

"Well, try speaking up a little louder," Stahl offered helpfully.

"Who ye talking to?" Sully slurred. Kellam only groaned.

* * *

"Poor fellow," Robin remarked.

"Which fellow?" Lissa asked with mock curiosity, laughing at Robin's confused expression. "I'm just kidding!"

"Oh yeah!" Robin said, remembering another question he had for Chrom. "You seemed distracted during the fight earlier, Chrom. Did you notice something else strange about Marth?"

"Strange doesn't do it justice," Chrom answered. "Did you notice his sword?"

"Of course," Robin answered. Lissa looked at the two men quizzically. "It looked quite a bit like your sword."

"Really?" Lissa asked. Apparently, Marth's weapon had escaped her notice.

"It wasn't just a lot like my sword, Robin," Chrom said with a sigh. "It was identical." Lissa's eyes widened at that.

"Well, that's not too strange is it? Maybe it came from the same smith," Robin suggested.

Chrom laughed. "Sorry, I forgot, you don't know much about Ylisse's history." He lifted his sword reverently and gently set it on the table. "This is Falchion. It's completely unique, a weapon once wielded by the hero-king Marth himself. It has been passed down his bloodline, generation by generation, for three millennia."

"Really?" Robin asked, impressed, as he inspected the weapon.

"Really," Chrom confirmed with a slight smile. "It's a sacred relic belonging to Ylisse's royal family. The guard and handle have been re-forged on numerous occasions, but it's the same blade. Legend has it that it was once blessed by the divine dragon, Naga. It's one-of-a-kind."

Robin shrugged. "Well, then Marth must be carrying a replica. I mean, the real Marth lived almost three thousand years ago, right?"

"What if it's the real Marth?" Lissa suggested. "Maybe he found a way to travel through time!" She looked at her brother and Robin expectantly. The two simply looked at her as if she had sprouted a second head. "Okay, maybe not."

Chrom sighed. "I guess you're right, Robin. The real Falchion is right here, so I suppose Marth's must be only a copy. It sure is well-made though, it looked so real I wasn't even sure I'd be able to tell them apart."

* * *

They set off late the next morning, the Shepherds as chipper as could be. They had every reason to be, after all, for their mission had proved successful. Robin had successfully roped Lon'qu into joining the morning training sessions. The quiet swordsman didn't seem too enthusiastic, but he joined without any complaint, and began instructing Robin in Feroxi sword techniques. Frederick wasn't too interested himself, as he often fought from horseback. Ferox didn't have many horses, so the Feroxi techniques weren't suitable for cavalry.

Robin was pleased with his progress, although he had to admit the routine was wearing at him. As he got to know his comrades better, he found himself spending more and more time accompanying them on their chores, sparring, or simply chatting by the campfire in the evenings. He refused to slack on his training or his studies, especially with a small stack of texts relating to military history that Flavia had given him sitting in the cart.

He had also found a new hobby. During his stay in Ferox, he had discovered a small wooden board, decorated with a carefully carved grid. Accompanying it was a set of figurines representing soldiers with varying armaments. Flavia, seeing his interest, had pressed the board onto him as a gift. "No one here remembers how to play it anyways," she had said with a laugh.

As it turned out, Virion, of all people, was familiar with the game. Although much simpler than true warfare, after a few short lessons, Robin was convinced it could be a useful tool for tacticians to prepare their strategies. Virion himself played exceptionally well, although he insisted his own strategies wouldn't be suitable for a true tactician. "I'm afraid my victories come at a cost far too great to be effective in our campaign," he admitted. "While I have dabbled in military strategy myself, I must confess that my victories stem from focusing on simpler objectives, and claiming them with whatever resources I have. You are by far the better strategist than I, and I expect your grasp of field tactics will rival mine soon enough."

Their trip back to Ylisstol was relatively uneventful. They had encountered a small band of risen milling about. The horrors proved too few in number to threaten the skilled and disciplined Shepherds, and merely gave the jolly band more stories to share around the campfire. Chrom called for an early stop that afternoon, an opportunity for the Shepherds to revel yet another flawless victory.

Chrom had asked Robin to give him a summary of the last battle, a task which Robin prepared eagerly for. But as he approached Chrom's tent, he was intercepted by Sumia.

"Sorry, Robin, but Chrom's taking a nap," she explained, a little hesitantly. "I… I hope you don't mind, I told him you wouldn't mind holding off the meeting for a bit."

"Chrom? Taking a nap?" Robin was perplexed. Postponing his report didn't bother him in the slightest, but if there was any Shepherd who got less sleep than he did, it had to be Chrom.

"Yep!" Sumia said cheerfully. "About time too, he looks like he hasn't slept for days!"

Robin looked at her strangely, silently wondering how she had managed to convince the normally tireless Chrom to actually rest. But that only turned Sumia's attention to his condition.

"Hmm. You look like you could use a nap too, Robin," Sumia observed.

"I wish," Robin replied ruefully. "But-"

"No excuses!" Sumia interrupted. "Tired people make mistakes, and we can't have that!" Robin began to protest again but Sumia simply ignored him and dragged him to his tent. "I'll wake you up when it's time for dinner. Sleep tight!"

For such a soft-spoken and shy young woman, Sumia could be awfully assertive at times. "Good night, Mother." Robin said sarcastically as she left. He had meant to catch up on his sleep when they returned to Ylisstol, but a quick nap sounded quite attractive for the time being.

* * *

"Well, you two are certainly in a good mood today," Sully remarked. She and Stahl were riding besides Chrom and Robin at the front of the formation, serving as the vanguard for the Shepherds.

"Who wouldn't be in a good mood? We'll make Ylisse by midday," Chrom answered. "By the way Stahl, thanks again for that tonic you brewed for me. I didn't know you knew how to prepare medicines."

"Oh it's nothing," Stahl said modestly. "I mean, it was just supposed to help you relax. Besides, Robin was the one who helped me gather the herbs."

"Well, it certainly spared me an awful fate," Chrom said quietly, under his breath. The two riders had pulled ahead a little and didn't hear him, but Robin did.

"What's that?" Robin mused.

"Oh. Nothing," Chrom said quickly, surprised to be overheard. When Robin didn't look convinced, he added, "Really, I was kidding."

"Does 'nothing' have to do with you missing our meeting yesterday?" Robin teased.

"Oh right. Eh. Sumia was very explicit about what would happen should I refuse to get some rest," Chrom admitted.

"That's a pretty impressive feat in itself," Robin said, slightly awed. "Frederick should take notes – you've gotten pretty good at ignoring his nagging."

Chrom rolled his eyes. "Technically, it's Frederick's fault. Apparently he went a little overboard with his efforts to build moral, and Sumia managed to reign him in. I was thankful for that, right until she told me she would only stay silent about it if I called off our meeting."

Robin laughed. "What did Frederick do now?"

Chrom smiled again. "Sorry. My lips are sealed."

"I guess I shouldn't talk," Robin said with another laugh. "She did put me to bed not long after. You know, that girl has a strange knack for getting her way."

* * *

Chrom's predictions proved accurate, and they reached Ylisstol by noon. To his surprise though, Captain Phila met them just outside the gates. "Prince Chrom!" she cried. "Thank the gods you've returned. The exalt must speak with you immediately."

Chrom nodded, and climbed aboard Phila's Pegasus. "It must be urgent. Frederick, I'll meet with you all back in the castle."

"Of course, milord," Frederick replied. "We'll make our way back to the barracks as quickly as possible."

"Don't get too comfortable," Phila warned Frederick as she was taking off. "For all of our sakes, I hope your mission was successful – Plegia is stirring." And with that ominous announcement, Phila and Chrom took to the skies.

* * *

"Welcome back, Chrom." Emmeryn had been waiting in the throne room. Chrom stepped forward, embracing his sister gently.

"Everyone's safe, Emm. Don't worry about us so much – I imagine your job here has been far more difficult," Chrom said reassuringly.

"Then I suppose your new tactician is working out well for you?" Emmeryn asked. Chrom nodded.

"Robin's one of us, Emm. It feels like he's been here for us forever," Chrom said. "And Ferox has pledged their help. Hopefully that will be enough to force Gangrel to reconsider this war."

Emmeryn's face fell. "I'm afraid that's why I sent Phila to bring you back," she said worriedly. "Plegian soldiers crossed the southwest border two nights ago, and razed several villages in Themis during the night. The survivors claim that they abducted the duke's daughter, as well."

"But that would be… Maribelle!" Chrom realized.

"King Gangrel is claiming that we invaded his country," Phila said. "He's demanded an explanation for our actions, and insists that the exalt meet him in person at the border pass."

"No." Chrom answered immediately. "The Mad King cannot be trusted."

"We have no choice, Chrom," Emmeryn replied sadly. "Should I refuse, it would mean war. And Lady Maribelle will be executed."

"And if it's a trap?" Captain Phila argued. "King Gangrel would like nothing more than to leave Ylisse leaderless as he begins his campaign."

Emmeryn sighed. "It matters not. Even should King Gangrel refuse to see reason, I must try – my responsibility to Ylisse as its exalt demands no less."

"Aptly put, milady," the hierarch said, lending her his support. "The moment we give up on peace is when peace is truly lost. We must speak with King Gangrel. He must see reason."

Chrom frowned. "I don't like this, Emm. Men like Gangrel don't care for peace. If we offer him parley, we would only be playing into his hands."

"I don't like it either, Chrom," Emmeryn assured. "But, I reiterate, we have no choice."

"Please, at least tell me you're not going alone," Chrom said, fearing the worst.

"As a matter of fact, I would be grateful if you and your Shepherds would accompany me. You are right, Chrom – King Gangrel cannot be trusted," Emmeryn admitted.

"You forget, Emm. Maribelle is one of us, too. We'll all be there, for you, and for her," Chrom assured.

"Then it's settled," Emmeryn proclaimed. "The border pass is but two days march from here. We will depart as soon as possible. This afternoon, if we can manage it."

* * *

As Chrom expected, the only complaints he received upon sharing the disturbing news were a few of the Shepherds wanting to set off immediately, rather than waiting to re-supply. Not a single Shepherd even hinted at wanting to stay behind, despite the journey they had just put behind them. Chrom himself felt rather impatient, as Robin and Miriel desperately tallied their supplies. Many of the Shepherds were on the verge of panic, especially Lissa, who had taken the news rather badly.

A few short hours later, the Shepherds set out once more, with the exalt herself accompanying them. As they left the castle, a young man accosted Chrom, who accompanied Robin and the last of the supply wagons.

"Captain! Wait for me! I'm all packed!" he said, panting. At first, Robin mistook the newcomer for a child. He fell short of five feet, just inches shorter than Lissa, and he had a boyish face, framed with messy auburn hair. He wore blue and white robes, similar in style to Miriel's.

"Ricken!? What are you doing here?" Chrom asked, shocked.

"I'm also a Shepherd, remember? And Maribelle is my friend, too!" Ricken answered heatedly. "I want to help!"

"Ricken, you've never been in the field before," Chrom said kindly. "This mission is dangerous and I don't think you are ready for it quite yet. You need to remain here."

The boy shook his head angrily. "Captain, you know my skill with magic. I can handle myself out there!"

"Not this time, Ricken," Chrom insisted, shaking his head. "If you really feel you're ready for the field, you can accompany us on our next journey, but this mission is just too delicate – we won't have time to show you the ropes." Ricken looked crestfallen. "Stay here and help keep our home safe, alright? Be good now."

"Who was that?" Robin asked curiously as they set off.

"Ricken's the youngest Shepherd, although he's not quite as young as he looks. He'll be eighteen by the end of this year," Chrom replied. "He's the only child of one of Ylisse's old high houses. His family's reputation has been waning lately, and they've become less outspoken, but they've always supported Emmeryn whole-heartedly. He's a friend of Lissa and Maribelle's, and he's been studying magic with Miriel."

"Another mage could come in handy," Robin remarked off-handedly.

"I know," Chrom said with a sigh. "And I'd love to have Ricken along, to tell the truth. But Maribelle's in danger already, and I don't know if Ricken is really ready for this. What if he loses his head out there?"

"Literally or figuratively? Never mind, I suppose both would be rather problematic," Robin remarked lightly.

"You have got to stop spending so much time with Frederick," Chrom said with a grin. "First the lecture on being careful, and now the dry, morbid humor. If you're not careful, you'll be clearing the path ahead of us of pebbles before long."

"Is that what he does when he scouts ahead?" Robin asked, surprised. "I thought he was just collecting them."

* * *

Setting up camp was a little more troublesome than Chrom had anticipated. No one really wanted to stop; the urgency of the situation weighed heavily on every member of the procession, but eventually, the animals were simply too tired to go on. Reluctantly, Chrom decided to call off the march and prepare some food.

"You really are rather familiar with this, aren't you?" Emmeryn asked her brother, as Chrom joined Sully in starting a campfire. Even weary as she was, her voice still held the same soothing quality it always carried.

"I do what I must," Chrom said with a shrug. "Emm, if our pace is too much for you, just let me know," he added, noting how tired his sister looked.

"I'm fine, Chrom" the exalt reassured. "This is as important to me as it is to the rest of you."

"Of course, but you have to watch your limits. Even Frederick admitted that," Lissa put in, plopping herself down on a nearby log. Emmeryn only smiled, silently thankful for her strong, younger siblings.

"Are you alright, Sully?" Chrom said, noticing that their companion was unnaturally quiet.

"O-Of course, sir!" Sully stuttered. Chrom gave her a questioning look; Sully was normally never nervous. Then he understood; a casual conversation with the exalt was probably not normal for the crimson-haired knight.

"Well, that's alright then," Chrom said casually. He looked around, noticing that Captain Phila and several of her Pegasus knights seemed rather uncomfortable with the crude campsite. "I'm beginning to think the rest of our military needs to spend some time roughing it on the road," he remarked with a light smile, hoping to set Sully at ease by turning her attention towards the others.

"They'll learn," Sully said with a shrug, Chrom's ploy proving effective. "It just takes a little getting used to. I still remember my first trek with the Shepherds."

* * *

Robin slipped into the nearby woods after their evening meal was prepared, an extra plate of food in one hand, and a torch in the other. Trees had stretched along both sides of the road, ever since about an hour out of Ylisstol. These parts seemed rather overgrown, but the keen-eyed tactician had noticed rather early in their journey that they were being followed. He had a fairly good guess as to who it was.

"You can stop hiding in that bush, Ricken," he said quietly, when he spotted a flash of blue peeking out from behind the leaves.

Abashed, Ricken crawled out of the bush, clutching his traveling pack. "Um… hello. You must be the tactician Chrom found, right?" he asked nervously.

"That's me. Call me Robin," the tactician replied calmly. "I believe you were supposed to remain in Ylisstol, were you not?" Robin asked.

Ricken frowned. "I signed up to help protect my friends and country, sir! Now one of my best friends is danger, and every Shepherd is marching off to help. I have to be there!"

Robin made a gesture for Ricken to quiet down. After checking to make sure they weren't overheard, Robin spoke again. "I won't tell Chrom," he promised. "If it were me being left behind, I'd do the same thing, to be honest, and I've only been a Shepherd for less than two weeks.

"Ricken, I know why you are here. Chrom is a good person. All of the Shepherds are good people. I haven't known them for long, but they trusted me and accepted me, and I'd be damned if I didn't do everything I could to help them. And if I knew they were trying to hold me back for my own sake, well, that's just more reason to keep trying."

"So you do understand!" Ricken said gratefully, visibly relieved.

Robin smiled, and handed over the extra plate of food he had brought. "I won't tell Chrom, but you need to promise me two things, Ricken. You need to stay safe. This is supposed to be a negotiation, but the way Chrom and the exalt have been talking, it's pretty clear they're both expecting things to get ugly. So, I need you to stay out of sight. I'll show you a couple hand signals. If I see an opportunity for you to help, I will let you know when and where to strike. Alright?"

"Got it," Ricken said, nodding eagerly as he began eating. Robin noted a few berry stains upon Ricken's robe. It was quite admirable that the young man would suffer sleeping on pine needles and subsiding on wild berries just to be a part of this. "What's the other thing?"

"You can't forget to take care of yourself," Robin said. "It was brave of you to come here, but you can't forget, the Shepherds care about you too. Do you have family at home?" Ricken nodded. "Then that's only another reason to look out for yourself. Alright? I've got a spare bedroll with me that you can have, and I'll try to slip some food out to you. But if you get hurt somehow, or something happens, forget about trying to stay hidden from the Shepherds and come let us know."

* * *

When Robin returned to the camp, he decided that at least one other Shepherd would have to know. Frederick was too alert, and would notice Ricken sooner or later anyways. Robin grimaced, knowing this conversation could be rather difficult, but to his surprise, Frederick was more than willing to go along with it.

"You're right," Frederick admitted when Robin finished telling him about the encounter in the woods. "King Gangrel simply cannot be trusted, and we would be wise to hold a few tricks up our own sleeves when we approach him." When Robin looked surprise, Frederick shot him a rare smile. "You need not doubt yourself any longer, Robin. Though you've been with us only two weeks, you've proved yourself again and again, be it in battle, or in your dedication to our cause."

"T-Thank you," Robin stammered, touched.

"No thanks are needed. My trust in you is not a gift, but something you have earned. As Chrom mentioned before, you're one of us now."

Robin gazed into the campfire for a moment, reflecting upon his rather small collection of memories. Maybe he didn't know who he used to be. But thanks to the Shepherds, he knew who he was now. And that was good enough for him.

* * *

The sight that awaited the Shepherds when they arrived at the border pass did little to ease their fears. King Gangrel himself stood upon a nearby cliff, clearly so he could speak down to Ylisse's exalt. He stood at just over six feet in height, his lanky frame covered in an elegant tunic of black, red, and white. His dark red hair was topped with a spiky golden crown. Strange fur bracers extended past his wrist, with long white claws reaching past his fingers. In his right hand, he held an unusual sword, its blade in the shape of a lightning bolt.

Like Emmeryn, he was not alone. A dark skinned woman with stark-white hair stood beside him. She was young, and dressed rather seductively in a black leather corset. Her shadowy cape was decorated with large black feathers, emerging from the top of her collar and stretching down to her legs. Her tight leggings were rather revealing, doing little to hide her shapely legs.

To make matters worse, in an obvious attempt to provoke the Ylissean party further, several Plegian soldiers were scattered along the cliffs, still dressed as bandits. The closest two were standing at the base of the cliffs, in front of a slope.

Robin frowned, taking in the positioning of the enemy soldiers. He noted a few apparently abandoned fortifications further along the base of the cliff. They looked ragged and recently built – there had to be Plegian soldiers within. There were only two slopes that could lead them up the cliff should a fight break out, and the Plegian soldiers had one blocked off. The other was behind the forts and the awaiting ambush. Every single Plegian soldier, save for the seductress by King Gangrel's side, was heavily armed.

King Gangrel was not a subtle man.

Then Robin spotted Maribelle. One of the Plegian soldiers held her, an axe by her throat, up upon an even higher cliff to the right. The disheveled woman looked both joyous and terrified to see her friends and her exalt approach. Robin made a quick gesture behind his back, hoping Ricken would see his signal and search for a way to draw closer to Maribelle.

As the exalt approached the cliff, King Gangrel spoke first. "What's this? The exalt herself, in all her radiance? I fear I must shield my eyes!" he jeered.

Exalt Emmeryn ignored King Gangrel's taunt. "King Gangrel. Your messenger requested an audience in your name. I have come for the truth of this unfortunate incident between us."

"Truth?" King Gangrel's dark-skinned consort spoke up. "The truth is simple enough, your grace."

"Perhaps milady might first share her name?" Emmeryn requested politely.

"You may call me Aversa," the woman replied. Her voice, like her appearance, was teasing and seductive. Chrom suppressed an urge to shudder. It sounded like Aversa was toying with them, as a cat would toy with her prey, and Aversa's mock-sultry tone was grating on his nerves.

"Aversa here is my loyal consultant," King Gangrel added with a smile. "She is a devout friend to Plegia, which is more than we can say of our hypocritical neighbors."

Emmeryn frowned, but did not rise to the king's newest insult. "Very well. Please, explain to me the altercation in Themis."

"Themis?" the king replied, feigning ignorance. "I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage, Exalt. I have never heard of any Themis. I must confess I am not familiar with Ylissean geography. Nevertheless, I am not aware of any incidents within Ylisse's borders."

"I'm afraid the altercation of which you speak took place within Plegia, milady," Aversa added cruelly. "Several Ylissean villagers crossed our borders without permission, and when our soldiers kindly offered to escort them home, they attacked and wounded our loyal men."

"LIAR!" Maribelle cried. "You speak naught but lies, hag! Your men invaded Ylisse!" Maribelle meant to say more, but her tirade was cut off as she was gagged roughly by the soldier holding her. The soldier then lifted his axe once more, returning it to its place by the girl's neck.

"Such a violent temper! And such crude manners!" King Gangrel said mockingly. "It is almost as if she intends to hide her guilt behind this masquerade. I wonder what she was doing in Plegia to begin with…" he added, teasingly."

"Imagine if Ylisse were spying upon us," Aversa added, spelling out the threat. "I'm afraid such would be an act of war, would it not? The Plegian people have been at Ylisse's mercy for so long, Exalt. I am disheartened to see that you would consider beginning yet another war. Was the grief and misery your father wrought during his reign not enough to satisfy your pride?"

For the first time, Robin noticed that Emmeryn was visibly shaken. Somehow, the king and his cruel temptress consort had touched a nerve.

"King Gangrel, I request you release Lady Maribelle. Surely, you and I can sort out these affairs without the need for hostages. The Ylissean people seek only peace, and surely your people must desire the same. Our aims align, and I am sure we can come to a reasonable accord," Emmeryn tried again.

"Hah!" King Gangrel spat. "Without so much as an apology, even. But I suppose you are right," he continued, with a wicked grin. "We are both reasonable people, after all, even if we seek rather different ends. If you want the girl, I propose an exchange. Surrender the Fire Emblem to me, and I will return your spy in one piece."

As he made the offer, both Chrom and Emmeryn blanched. "You would demand one of Ylisse's royal treasures? But why?" the exalt asked uneasily.

"Don't feign ignorance with me!" King Gangrel roared. "I know the legend of the Fire Emblem. The artifact holds unspeakable power, and it alone saved Ylisse in her time of need! The power of the artifact has lain dormant far too long! I have dreamed of the Fire Emblem for years. With its power, I can fulfill my wishes. I can give my people the strength it takes to claim their place!"

King Gangrel's ranting stopped, and his expression returned to a sly smile. "Oh how cruel the Ylissean people are. Our dreams rest silently in your castle vault. Year after year, my birthday comes and goes, with nothing from Ylisse."

"The Emblem's power is meant only for a single purpose," Exalt Emmeryn corrected. "It holds the power to awaken greater powers that have been laid to rest, powers that can save our world in its time of need. Would you claim a greater need and nobler wish than that?"

Gangrel's smile widened. "Of course, your grace. My deepest wish mirrors the heart of every true Plegian alive. I wish for nothing more than a grisly end for every last Ylissean!" he finished with a roar. "Surely you have not forgotten your father's crusade? He named us heathens! Tens of thousands of Plegians died in the name of the exalt!"

Robin flinched. The Mad King has certainly earned his title. He surveyed the battlefield once more, noting that the Plegians were readying themselves for a fight. There was no sign of Ricken, either. Then again, there really wasn't any way up the mountain that he could see that wasn't right past the Plegian guards. If they couldn't placate Gangrel, Maribelle was, in all likelihood, doomed.

But Emmeryn was not ready to give up. "I have never denied Ylisse's past wrongdoings. But I have sworn openly to never repeat the former exalt's mistakes. We are now a realm of peace, a peace that we would gladly share with our neighbors."

"You are a realm of hypocrisy!" King Gangrel accused. "This negotiation is over!" With that, he flashed a signal to the soldiers at the base of the hill, who advanced on Emmeryn.

Chrom reacted instantly, rushing forward to meet the two soldiers, Falchion drawn. "Stay back!" Chrom warned, standing over a fallen Plegian fighter. The other backed away uneasily.

"Now that's a declaration of war if I've ever heard one!" Gangrel crowed. He sent a signal to his men, who began to advance on the Shepherds below, then departed.

Robin watched nervously as Aversa, rather than following Gangrel to the far slope, approached Mirabelle. She must have spoken to Maribelle, because the blonde looked utterly defeated. Robin's mind whirled frantically. Could Sumia get up there in time? Even if she could, could she handle Aversa and the guard? Could one of the Shepherds scramble up the cliff in time? Every avenue of thought led to the same conclusion, that Maribelle was doomed, unless…

A magical gust of wind leapt out of the bushes near where Maribelle was being held, blasting the guard aside. Ricken must have found a way up the cliff even before Robin sent him the signal, Robin realized, for he hadn't seen the young mage slipping into those bushes.

That was one crisis averted for now.

"Virion!" Robin ordered. "Take our cavalry and Kellam and head out towards those forts – there are soldiers hiding within. Just keep them from flanking us and keep our men alive!" Virion and Frederick exchanged surprised glances, but to Robin's relief, Virion did as he was told, leading a portion of their force away. Sure enough, there were several Plegians in the forts who emerged as they realized they had been found out.

"Chrom, Lon'qu, you two are with me," Robin instructed. "We have to force our way up the hill – Ricken and Maribelle will need our help." He turned to Sumia. "Stay close, but not too close."

"Everyone else, stay with the exalt. Keep her safe!" With that final instruction, Robin advanced towards the slope.

The other member of the pair that had initially approached Emmeryn had fled, but was now returning, four more soldiers at his back. Of the five, four of them were carrying axes, but one of them held a long lance. "Leave that one to me, Chrom," Robin indicated, drawing his tome. A couple quick lightning blasts later, and he drew his own sword, the lancer safely out of the way.

Then Chrom cried out – "Wyverns!"

Sure enough, three winged, scaly reptiles soared by, Plegian riders astride them. Robin had read about them in one of the books Flavia had given him, but the texts hardly did the sight justice. The beasts were at least fifteen feet in length, far larger than horses, winged or not. Their wingspan easily stretched twenty feet. A strange metal helmet protected most of each wyvern's fierce visage, revealing only a powerful jaw full of razor sharp, four-inch long fangs.

Like all flying foes, Robin imagined they'd be vulnerable to projectiles. Their wings had to remain exposed as armor would limited their ability to fly, and a single well-placed arrow could bring down a wyvern and its rider. But Virion was occupied with the western battle, which had only grown fiercer. To Robin's relief, Virion was giving ground as necessary, drawing the Plegians into the open where their cavalry held the upper hand, but the archer would be busy for some time.

Flying foes were also vulnerable to air magic, the turbulence throwing them off balance as an earthquake would affect grounded foes. But Pegasi were rather resilient towards magic – wyverns could potentially share that trait, rendering his lightning ineffective.

A cry for help brought Robin back to reality – Maribelle and Ricken had been cornered. The young mage was fighting fiercely, but he was outnumbered badly. He was barely keeping two soldiers away, while three more were advancing. Maribelle had produced a staff from somewhere, but she was waving desperately to the Shepherds, uncertain of how much longer Ricken could stand his ground.

"Sumia, get me up to that cliff," Robin instructed. "I'll help Ricken hold until Chrom and Lon'qu reach us." Sumia obeyed without a word, and lifted Robin up onto her Pegasus's back.

"Robin!" Ricken cried out in surprise, as the tactician leapt down from the flying mount, landing beside him.

"Ricken, there are wyverns approaching. If one heads this way, try to blast it out of the air," Robin said, as he quickly laid low one of the Plegian soldiers. Before Ricken could acknowledge Robin's orders, a loud roar sounded out above them as a Plegian wyvern knight descended, raising his axe.

Ricken's reflexes proved sharp. A gust of wind threw the wyvern into a wild spin, and shredded holes in its wings. "Not quite magic-proof then," Robin remarked with a grin, as he followed Ricken's assault with a blast of lightning. The rider was thrown from the wyvern, falling nearly fifty feet and crashing against the rocky ground with a sickening noise. The wyvern managed to stay afloat a moment longer, but it, too, was losing altitude quickly, and could no longer control its flight. It fell to its demise as well, landing only a few paces from its dead rider.

Chrom and Lon'qu reached them soon after, sporting only a few cuts. Maribelle proved as skilled with a staff as Lissa, mending their wounds immediately. "Ricken," she explained impatiently, as Chrom opened his mouth to ask how she had managed to get her hands on a staff. Chrom was only more confused – he clearly remembered ordering Ricken to stay in Ylisstol.

The battle at the base of the cliffs had ended in the meantime. One wyvern had peeled off to strike at the riders, but Virion had brought it down swiftly. The last one had gone straight for the exalt, but Captain Phila and a pair of her Pegasus knights, while weaker, simply outmaneuvered the Plegian and took him out of the air with practiced ease.

The few remaining soldiers, leaderless now that Gangrel and Aversa had abandoned them, simply fled the field. The Shepherds had not lost a single soldier in the engagement, Robin noted, but it still hardly felt like a victory, as they were now in the exact situation the exalt had hoped to avoid.


	6. Chapter 4: Legacy of the Exalt

**Chapter 4: Legacy of the Exalt**

"Sorry, Chrom," Ricken said, hanging his head guiltily. Once the battle was over, Chrom had shot him a questioning look. Robin, too, felt rather guilty for deceiving Chrom.

"I'm afraid it's as much my fault as his," Robin admitted. "I spotted Ricken following us on the first day, and to be honest, I thought we needed all the help we could get for this mission. Besides, no Shepherd, no matter how young, would want to be left behind while his comrades march towards danger."

"He was very brave," Maribelle said, leaping to Ricken's defense. "And he saved my life, of course."

Chrom listened for a moment. Then, to Ricken's relief, he started laughing. "I should've known better," Chrom admitted. "And you were right, Robin. On both counts. I imagine if Emmeryn insisted I stay behind, I would be the one sneaking along."

He turned to face Ricken directly. "Thank you Ricken. You might have acted rashly, but no more than I did today." His face twisted into a pained grimace. "I imagine Emm will have a lecture for me when we return. Of course I'd be the one to strike the first blow of the Second Plegian war."

"You did what you had to, Chrom," Robin assured. "You defended the exalt. No matter who struck the first blow, this war is King Gangrel's fault, not yours."

* * *

"For what it's worth, I'm glad you're safe," Robin said to Maribelle. The two were lagging a bit behind. Maribelle simply wasn't accustomed to hiking. Robin, on the other hand, had taken a blow to the leg during the fight. But they had expended enough resources on this battle already – he would have time to treat it later in the camp. So he hid the limp as best he could.

Maribelle turned to him, surprised. "Your concern is worth quite a bit to me, tactician," she answered. "Thank you. Not only for that, but for your earlier actions as well. You play the hero rather well, to be quite honest."

It was Robin's turn to be surprised. "Hah. I got the impression that you weren't especially fond of me from our last encounter. This is quite the turn-around, isn't it?"

Maribelle shook her head, blushing slightly. "I apologize for being curt with you before. It's not so much a matter of fondness. To be completely honest, I was just concerned for Lissa. She's a rather trusting girl, as you must have noticed, and very sensitive."

"You and Frederick must get along perfectly," Robin said with a smirk.

* * *

The trip back to Ylisstol proved to be a quiet one, as the ramifications of their latest battle began to take root. The unavoidable fact was that, despite their best efforts, they were at war. The fervor that had driven them towards the border pass was gone, replaced by doubt and unease. Even the nightly campfire discussions were muted.

Chrom, Robin, Frederick, Phila, and the hierarch gathered each evening on the trip back to discuss the coming war. The first night was mostly spend with Phila and the hierarch noting the points of interest nearest to the Plegia-Ylisse border, as well as outlining the war resources Ylisse held. As Chrom explained, the hierarch was a valued consultant for most matters, but the older man was unfortunately unversed in the art of war.

By the end of the second evening, Robin had indicated what he believed were to be the most likely battlefields for the first few engagements of the war. Ylisse was not ready to strike, so the first few battles would all be fought on Ylissean soil. "You'll need your Pegasus knights to hold at these four points," Robin suggested to Captain Phila. "They will serve as our scouts. If Plegia attacks in force at any of these points, there is no way we can hold them. We must save what we can – evacuate the townspeople, and retreat while we gather our strength."

"Your plan could cost us many of our mines or fields, tactician," the hierarch argued disapprovingly. "We cannot hope to win this war without resources. We must commit – make our stand where the resources are most valued, and yield the less critical territory."

"If we had the strength to make a stand, then your suggestion would prove viable. But the Pegasus knights form the bulk of our army, and though effective in small engagements, they would be sorely outnumbered. In truth, this plan makes me uneasy to begin with." What Robin was referring to was a concern he voiced earlier that evening. The wyvern riders of Plegia may be slower than Pegasus knights in battle, but according to all the texts he had available, could pace them easily in long-distance flights. The Pegasus knights could be in grave danger if the attackers approached in superior numbers, mounted on their dragon-like mounts, since they wouldn't be able to escape a battle for long. But the hierarch assured that recent intelligence indicated only a handful of Wyvern riders were available. At that, Phila declared the risk acceptable, and insisted that they be deployed to offer some protection.

Robin also found it ironic that Ylisse apparently did have spies in Plegia, yet King Gangrel found it necessary to weave his tales about Maribelle.

"We will require Ferox's support before we can truly engage Plegia's armies head-on," Robin continued. "If we lose our own forces too early, we may still be able to recover, but the war will be longer, and more of the Ylissean people will suffer. As our plan stands, some people will lose their homes, but we stand a reasonable chance of gathering a sufficiently strong force and ending this war quickly."

With that promise, Chrom and Frederick supported the plan readily, and the hierarch grudgingly agreed.

Their journey back to Ylisstol was at a far slower pace, so, by morning, Phila had set off alone, intending to deliver the orders and deploy her knights. With the threat of an invasion hanging over them, time was of critical importance. Phila reached Ylisstol that evening. The rest of the procession was expected to arrive the following afternoon, where the weary Shepherds could finally find a moment's rest, as the couriers delivered the dire news to their Feroxi allies.

* * *

Even with the threat of war hanging over them, the Shepherds were still in better spirits than during their journey to the border pass. Lissa, in particular, was overjoyed to have her friend back, and Robin noticed the two of them breaking for tea often during their trek back to Ylisstol, often joined by Sumia. Virion had attempted to join them earlier on as well, but had been rebuffed soundly.

Sully, Stahl, and Frederick had returned to their daily training routine now that they weren't marching or working every available minute. Robin resumed his morning training with Frederick, and Lon'qu began approaching the sessions with a bit of his own enthusiasm, now that Robin was becoming familiar with his style. The rigorous sparring was tiresome, but after his last few battles, Robin knew that one day, his skills could save lives, well-worth the sweat and labor.

Still, there was a nervous tension hanging over all of them. No one really spoke of it, but they knew they would be seeing plenty of battle soon.

* * *

They arrived in Ylisstol the following afternoon, thousands of Ylissean citizens greeting their exalt. The rumors of war hadn't truly taken root in the populace yet. The atmosphere was unchanged – they knew something was wrong, but they had faith in their exalt to preserve their peaceful lives.

Seeing their unwavering faith only reminded Emmeryn of the burden she carried. The people expected much from her, but she owed them even more. She had failed to prevent the war, and now, she had no choice but to wait, for she had not the strength to end the war. It took all her strength to keep walking, and keep smiling, as they made their way to the castle.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly to Robin, who had somehow wound up beside her.

At first Robin thought she was talking to herself, but when he realize she was speaking to him, he was utterly shocked.

"These troubles, and this war, are my problems," she explained sadly. "And yet the burden has fallen squarely upon you and Chrom. When Chrom found you, he sought to help you. We never meant to pull you so deeply into our own troubles, especially burdened as you are with your own challenges."

Robin looked bewildered. "Your grace, Prince Chrom didn't pull me anywhere. I follow him of my own accord. And, as for my own challenges, while the loss of my memories is disquieting, in truth it means I have no other difficulties of which to speak. You speak of burden, but what you and Chrom have given me is purpose.

"I would sooner live in fear of loss, than drift along in quiet indifference," Robin concluded eloquently.

Emmeryn smiled, her first genuine smile since the battle at the border pass. "Then I thank you, Robin, for standing firmly beside us in our time of need."

* * *

"Hello Robin," Chrom said, as he found the tactician wandering through the courtyard. Night had fallen, and most of the Shepherds were resting, weary from the long journey. But given his sudden responsibility, Chrom was not surprised to see Robin wide-awake and pacing restlessly.

"Chrom? What are you doing out so late?" Robin asked, surprised.

"The same as you, I imagine. Dueling with unpleasant thoughts," Chrom replied. "I spoke with Emmeryn. Tomorrow, I leave for Ferox once more. Phila sent the couriers with the news already, but I would sooner meet with the khans again, to share the ill tidings in person."

Robin nodded. "That seems prudent. But as we've noted, Ylisse is vulnerable at the moment. Can we truly risk sending the Shepherds away at this time?"

"That is why I intend to travel almost alone," Chrom explained. "Captain Phila will take me to Ferox, but the rest of the Shepherds will remain here."

Robin mulled it over. "I suppose that makes sense."

"But there's one thing you need to know, Robin," Chrom continued hesitantly. "Not everything Gangrel said was a lie. My father, the former exalt, was a very different ruler from the one Emmeryn strives to be. Almost two decades ago, Ylisse did invade Plegia. The Plegians were tolerant of the Grimleal, cultists who worship the fell dragon itself."

"The fell dragon tried to destroy Ylisse, didn't it?" interjected Robin, remember Frederick's words. "Why would anyone choose to worship it?"

Chrom shrugged. "I'm not certain, myself, but my understanding is that to them, the fell dragon is more than just simply a destroyer. They see him as the bringer of a new order. Nevertheless, the Grimleal were more or less harmless at the time. It was simply fear and hate that drove my father to war. Plegia rightfully remembers their suffering, for many lives were lost in an attempt to protect their people from the exalt's wrath. But the war was no kinder to our own people. Farmers who could barely wield a pitchfork were conscripted and sent to their deaths on foreign soil. Many of our people were left homeless and starving through the winters. Young as I was, I still remember those dark times. Emmeryn was older at the time, old enough to fully comprehend the horror of it all, and it affected her terribly."

"Such an experience would change anyone," Robin said. Indeed, even hearing about it shocked him.

"When my father died, fifteen years ago," Chrom went on, "he left Emmeryn an orphaned exalt, alone and unprepared. A ten-year old girl, hated by her own people for the suffering her father created, hated by our neighbors for the futile, bloody campaign. But she rose to the challenge. Despite the bitterness from all sides, she demanded an end to the war, and brought our soldiers home. She persuaded the Feroxi to accept peace, despite their even greater hatred of the Grimleal.

"It was many years before our people understood that Emm was not her father. She still bears scars from the first riot. They hurled more than insults at her at first. Some tossed rotten fruit, while others assaulted her with stones and branches. But she ignored it all, and did what she could to create the Ylisse you see today. And of course, she did it all with two younger siblings, desperately confused by the world around them."

"It must have been so hard," Robin said, as the enormity of the task set in. "Your sister is quite a remarkable person."

"She is. She never resented her people, and still blames herself for their suffering as she struggled to rebuild our country. She represents the best of the halidom. Our exalt is our peace, now." Chrom's expression turned grim. "But the Mad King doesn't understand peace. He won't release his bitterness, he won't let go of our dark past, even if it means he has to drag both of our countries back into those terrible, terrible times. Emmeryn will try to reason with him, will try to end this war as bloodlessly as possible, but with Gangrel, I don't believe it is possible. I fear that only death can bring the Mad King peace."

Robin didn't have an answer for that ominous claim. But to his surprise, someone else did.

"Well spoken, sir." Chrom and Robin turned towards the voice and saw Marth striding towards them, still wearing that mysterious mask.

"Hello Marth," Robin greeted, surprised.

"How did you get in here?" Chrom asked, dumbfounded, fearing the worst for the guards.

"The cleft in the castle wall, behind the maple grove," Marth answered matter-of-factly. Chrom looked even more surprised.

"You know the place?" Robin asked.

Chrom nodded numbly. "I bashed in part of the wall once. I was an accident while I was practicing a new maneuver."

"The one you attempted against me in Ferox," Marth said. Robin flinched, remembering the collapsed wall.

"It was small hole, and I thought it was well concealed," Chrom protested.

Marth waved his concerns away. "Your secret is safe with me. I've only come to warn you. The exalt's life is in danger."

That got Chrom and Robin's attention instantly. "That's absurd," Chrom said, but with a slight tremor. "The exalt is guarded at all hours."

"The castle's entrances are all watched, save for your own entrance," Robin added. Marth only sighed.

"What if I told you I have seen the future? Would you believe me? A future where Emmeryn is killed. Here. Tonight."

When Chrom and Robin remained silent, Marth drew his weapon. Alarmed, Chrom and Robin both reached for their blades as well. But before either of them went further, Marth spun and stepped to the side. To their surprise, a cloaked man sprang from the bushes nearby, rushing straight towards Chrom. The man had a steel dagger drawn, glinting in the flickering torchlight. As the man barreled towards Chrom, his murderous intent clear, Marth buried his sword into the assassin's back.

"Now do you believe me?" Marth asked, a hint of impatience creeping into his tone – the first bit of emotion either Chrom or Robin remembered hearing from him.

As Chrom nodded his assent, the same bush stirred again. Evidently, Marth had not known of the second assassin's approach. Upon hearing the noise, Marth spun again to face the new threat, and only barely had enough time to leap away. The blade would have struck Marth in the face, but glanced off the mask instead, severing the bindings and knocking the mask to the floor.

As the assassin aimed a second strike, a bolt of lightning threw him from his feet. Chrom sprang forward too, meaning to cut down the assassin, but seeing that the man was no longer a threat, he turned to face Marth instead, where he made a shocking discovery.

Marth's face was clearly feminine, and with the bindings of the mask gone, her hair cascaded freely around her shoulders. "You… you're a woman?" Chrom asked, shocked.

Marth smiled. "Honestly, I'm surprised I managed to hide it from you this long." Then her expression hardened. "The exalt needs us. Please, believe me." With that, she took off, racing towards the castle, Robin and Chrom following close behind.

* * *

"I don't know the details," Marth admitted. "Only that you were gravely injured this night, saved only by your tactician's timely intervention. Somehow, the Plegians were able to slip their assassins into the castle, past the walls. With you out of the way, the exalt was slain."

"Well, I'm not out of the way this time," Chrom said as they raced down the halls furiously. "Nor are we alone." With that, he began shouting in an effort to alert as many of the Shepherds as possible.

By the time they reached the throne room, fighting had broken out. Shepherds had burst into the halls, weapons readied, and the guards had been alerted, closing in on the intruders from behind. One assassin had slipped into the room, but before Emmeryn could react, Chrom put a sword through the man's heart.

"Emmeryn, are you alright!?" Chrom cried, entering the room. There were two entrances to the throne room. The main door remained intact, but the side-door through which Chrom just entered had been destroyed by the would-be-killer that lay dead at his feet.

"Chrom, we have to get out of here!" Emmeryn said, grateful that at least one of her siblings was safe. "Where's Lissa?"

Robin shook his head. "We have no idea where the assassins are. This room is as safe as any." He turned to Marth. "Marth, can you protect the main entrance?"

"Leave it to me," Marth assured. And with that, the mysterious woman set off, standing vigil in front of the door.

"Chrom, what do you know about Plegian magic?" Robin asked suddenly, turning to Chrom, and ignoring Emmeryn's questioning glance towards Marth.

"Say what?" Chrom asked, startled.

"There is no way this many assassins slipped through without alerting the guards," Robin explained quickly. "They could have had help, but even so it seems unlikely for so many to get in. The only explanation is that Plegians have something else on their side. But this is beyond any conventional magic I've heard of."

Chrom simply shook his head. "Sorry Robin, I don't know anything about magic. You will have to ask Miriel later after this is over."

Robin looked over his shoulder. The sounds of fighting were getting closer. "Please," Robin insisted, rounding on the exalt and the hierarch, who was cowering in the corner. "I need to know anything you know about them. It could be the key to stopping them."

"The Grimleal dabble in rift magic," the hierarch wheezed. Robin motioned to him to continue. "The strongest of the Grimleal sorcerers can transport themselves to another destination, though not without great effort, and not always to a precise destination."

"That wouldn't explain a dozen assassins, none of them spell casters," Robin commented. "Plus, they managed to bypass our walls without alerting anyone so they must have been quite precise. Is there anything else?"

The hierarch nodded. "It is said that with two experienced Grimleal sorcerers working in concert, one from each end, they can create a temporary gateway from one place to another. Such a gateway is more stable and precise, and is suitable for sending several people. So the stories say, at least."

"That has to be it then!" Chrom exclaimed. "If the Grimleal are standing by the Mad King, all they would need is to smuggle a single sorcerer into the castle."

"Chrom, we need to find that sorcerer," Robin insisted. "Kill him, and the gateway is gone. No more reinforcements, no escape for those that are here."

"Unless they brought another sorcerer," Chrom pointed out.

Just then, Frederick burst into the room, accompanied by Stahl, Kellam, and Lissa. He seemed relieved to see Chrom and Robin there already.

"There's no time to talk," Robin said quickly. "You need to stay here and protect Emmeryn. Marth will help you," he added, gesturing towards the young woman standing at the door. Lissa and Frederick were startled to see Marth there, even more so when they realized the mask was gone, and the mysterious warrior was a woman. But before any of them could protest, Chrom had already nodded, and he led the way out of the room.

"Stealth," Robin reminded, as they slipped down the corridor. Chrom seemed eager to join the fighting, but they couldn't afford to be caught up in a battle – the sorcerer had to be defeated, else if he managed to retreat or hide, they could simply make another attempt later. Chrom reluctantly crouched in the shadow, but almost knocked over a vase, which he caught only just in time.

"That's what you call stealth?" an unfamiliar voice remarked dryly. Chrom and Robin turned to see a short, skinny man in a dark cloak with burnt orange hair. His hair was messy, and his dark clothes rather stained. He was casually sucking on a lollipop. "Whoa! Easy there, blue blood!" he called, as Chrom drew his sword. "I'm not here hurt anyone."

"No, I suppose you're just along for the ride," Chrom replied.

"Pretty much," the rogue said, ignoring the sarcasm. "I'm a thief. I steal. I don't like it, but it beats starving. This lot told me they were breaking into a vault, and I was supposed to find a way to let their crew in. Next thing I know, the new instructions were to kill the exalt."

"So that's how the sorcerer got in," Robin remarked. "One mystery solved." Chrom, realizing the truth in the tactician's words, waved his sword threateningly.

"Hey! Cut it out, I told you, I didn't know anything about any murder. That wasn't the plan. All they told me was that someone would leave a window open for me, and that I was supposed to let the help in through one of the side doors. The exalt's done pretty good for us commoners. I don't mind lifting a few gold but an assassination? Count me out."

Robin pondered the rogue's words thoughtfully, and this time, Chrom had apparently reached the same conclusions. "Prove it," Chrom said. "We need all the help we can get to save the exalt's life. You look capable. Help us."

"How?" the rogue asked curiously.

"For starters, point us to the side door you let the assassins in from," Robin instructed.

The rogue seemed to think it over for a second. Then he nodded agreeably. "I'll do you one better. I only let a single man in, he must have let the others in. But I'll show you where he was headed." He stuck out his hand, offering a handshake. "Gaius."

"Chrom," Chrom introduced, extending his own hand. "Thank you, Gaius. If you're telling the truth, whatever your ill intentions before, you would have saved my sister's life."

The three of them took off, following Gaius's lead. The thief really was quite clever, sometimes choosing the obvious route, other times leading them on detours. It was effective and they slipped right by several battles.

The trio made their way across the castle, until finally, Gaius led them to one of the private gardens. "And there he is," Gaius said. Chrom and Robin needed no more urging than that. "Say, got any candy on you? I could use a sugar rush right about now." Chrom looked at him incredulously. Then, with Robin right behind him, he rushed out into the garden.

There was a large gateway formed from beams of violet light. The patterns looked similar to those that hovered in the sky over the forest the night the risen attacked, but the sickly color gave the gateway a more sinister feel. Standing beside the gateway was a tall, middle-aged, dark-skinned man with crimson eyes.

He was clad in dark robes, with a color scheme quite similar to the robes worn by Robin. But unlike Robin, his robes were far more decorated. Upon seeing Chrom, he smiled, his short goatee outlining his sharp features.

"Well, I must say I'm surprised," the man drawled. "Two assassins and the princeling remains untouched?" Robin couldn't help but feel as if he'd seen this man somewhere before. Then the man turned to him, and the sorcerer's expression became one of shock. Then the sorcerer's visage twisted back into a smile. "Can it be? After years of searching… fate truly shines on me tonight."

Before either Chrom or Robin could decipher the sorcerer's babbling, he attacked. In one swift motion, he pulled forth a blood-red tome, and a stream of fire leapt from his hands, shaping itself roughly into a dragon as it rushed towards Chrom.

Robin threw himself at Chrom, knocking his friend to the ground, both of them narrowly avoiding the spell, before throwing a bolt of lightning of his own. A second wave of fire burst forth from the sorcerer's hand, catching and consuming the lightning spell. Chrom rushed forward, then rolled aside quickly, dodging yet another flare of fire magic.

The sorcerer was simply too fast and too skilled. Chrom and Robin circled him, looking for an opening, but the sorcerer patiently timed his own castings to keep the two younger combatants weaving and dodging, wearing them down.

Suddenly, a shout caught his attention. The sorcerer spun to see a dagger flying at his face. He reacted instinctively, incinerating the dagger, before realizing he had put the more dangerous foes behind him. Chrom rushed forward, impaling the sorcerer, who looked down to see Falchion piercing through his chest.

The sorcerer staggered away, Chrom withdrawing falchion. The blade had cut straight through his heart. The dead man toppled headfirst through the flickering gateway, the magic dying with its caster.

"Thought you could use a hand," Gaius said with a smile.

* * *

There was a troubled air in the throne room when Chrom and Robin returned, their newest ally in tow. The battle had been difficult. Several of the castle's guards had been killed. Lon'qu and Sully had been wounded rather sorely, as they were cut off from the rest of the Shepherds. Emmeryn was safe though, so even though the atmosphere felt muted, there was also a sense of palpable relief.

"This is Gaius," Chrom said, as he introduced the rogue. "He was tricked into letting the sorcerer in, but he led Robin and I to the sorcerer and helped us kill the dastard."

Frederick was immediately suspicious. "Tricked? And, pray tell, how did that situation arise?" he asked, glaring at the thief.

"Not now, Frederick," Chrom admonished. "There's too much happening. I need to speak with Marth."

Emmeryn shook her head. "Marth left as soon as the fighting ended," she explained.

Without another word, Robin and Chrom set off. As they left, Robin noted that one other Shepherd was glaring at Gaius. Maribelle was staring at Gaius, her face a mask of utter loathing, while Gaius was doing her best to avoid eye-contact.

"Strange," Robin muttered, as he hurried after Chrom. Hopefully no one would be dead when they returned.

* * *

Chrom led Robin down some of the less-used paths, before finally scaling down a tree in the training yard. He silently pointed out the hole in the wall Marth had alluded to, and the two waited. They had arrived just in time – Marth was walking quickly towards the makeshift entrance, looking behind her to ensure she was not followed.

"Going somewhere?" Chrom asked casually. When Marth looked startled, he continued. "You have a bad habit of leaving without saying good-bye, you know."

"I'm afraid I have a few bad habits," Marth admitted sheepishly.

"Plenty of good ones as well," Chrom said, dropping the stern demeanor. "You've saved my life, and the lives of both my sisters. I doubt I can truly repay you for those deeds, but if there's any favor I can grant, please ask. I owe you much."

Marth shook her head, smiling. "Hearing you offer is reward enough," she said in a peaceful tone. "I have what I came for." Robin looked alarmed, wondering what Marth could have taken, but her next words put him at ease, despite raising more questions. "History has been re-written, and a terrible fate has been averted."

"What fate?" Chrom asked uneasily.

Marth sighed, her expression turning grim. "After the exalt was assassinated, the Fire Emblem was stolen. Due to your injuries, the Shepherds and the Ylissean army were crippled. The Second Plegian war persisted for some time, and in its aftermath, other wars soon followed. The fighting culminated in the end of mankind itself." As if realizing how outlandish her claims were, she added, "I'm sure it sounds like madness to you, and hopefully, such a fate would never befall your world."

Chrom shook his head. "It does sound ridiculous, but strangely, I believe you. Somehow, I know I can trust you, and that the events happening around us are simply precursors to something far worse. I can only hope one day I can repay your favors to us."

Marth smiled again. "Maybe. Until then," she said. She moved towards the hole in the wall, Chrom and Robin letting her by. As she left, she released the branches of a tree outside that she had apparently bound together, the leaves covering the hidden entrance.

"The end of all mankind," Robin mused, reiterating Marth's dire prediction. "Hopefully she's right about such a fate never befalling us – I think everyone save Gangrel has had their fill of war already." Suddenly, Robin felt extremely queasy. He realized why the sorcerer looked familiar. He only had one memory, one that couldn't even have been real, when he had awakened. A vision of himself, fighting side-by-side with Chrom. Battling that same sorcerer.

As Robin followed Chrom back to the throne room, he reassured himself silently. Chrom was alive. The sorcerer was not. Maybe it was coincidence that he had dreamed of both the lord and this mysterious sorcerer, but even if it was a vision, it could not come to pass.

* * *

Back in the throne room, the others were embroiled in a heated argument.

"Milady, until we know more about our assailants, we cannot remain here in the castle!" Frederick insisted.

Phila clearly agreed with the knight. "It will take some time for us to investigate this plot, Exalt. Gaius's tale gives us too little to go from. The plan was well-concocted, and only the intervention of Marth and Gaius kept it from being successful."

"I cannot leave," Emmeryn replied calmly. "The people must know their exalt stands by them. Should I leave, the war is already lost."

"If they reach you, the war is lost," Frederick corrected.

"The exalt has spoken," the hierarch protested. "With the Shepherds here, the exalt will remain safe. We must simply re-double our guard."

"I am no longer comfortable escorting Prince Chrom alone," Captain Phila admitted. "Plegia's reach is beyond our ken."

"They are trying to scare us!" the hierarch argued. "To terrorize us into second-guessing our own plans!"

"Might I make a suggestion?" Robin asked, interrupting politely. The others turned to him, and Emmeryn motioned for him to continue. "When we studied the maps, a secret eastern palace was mentioned. I assume Plegia knows nothing of it?" When no one corrected him, he assumed he was right, and went on with his plan. "From the location, I recall it was close to the Ylisse-Ferox border. Why not adjust our course and travel there as a group? From there, a messenger from the Shepherds can contact the khans."

"The exalt's protection would lie solely with the Shepherds," the hierarch complained. "We cannot risk sending a larger force to the eastern palace with war on our doorsteps.

"I believe the Shepherds have a rather stellar record so far of protecting the royal family," Frederick said, a dangerous edge in his voice. The hierarch turned to Frederick nervously, but said nothing.

"Please, consider it," Chrom said, voicing his support. "There's been no sign of an invasion yet. When the war begins in full, we will certainly be there for our people, but for now, we're talking about assassinations. And if they succeed, it would only be far worse for our people."

To his relief, Emmeryn finally conceded the point. "Very well then. I will remain with the Shepherds for now."

* * *

Most of the Shepherds tried to return to their rest, but a few of them wandered the castle. The sense of urgency simply grew more and more dire, and it was beginning to weigh in on everyone.

Chrom was rather surprised to see his younger sister among them. Lissa was sitting in the courtyard, not far from where he spoke with Robin earlier that evening about Ylisse's bloody past. The girl was heavily distracted, sighing heavily, Chrom's approach escaping her attention.

"Well, that was a big one," Chrom remarked lightly, startling his sister.

"Oh! Chrom!" she said, turning around, shocked.

"How are you holding up?" Chrom asked gently, sitting down beside her. "I know it's tiring."

Lissa shook her head. "It's alright. Frederick was right, I think I got used to it pretty quickly."

"I'm not talking about the travelling," Chrom said with a smile.

Lissa didn't answer immediately, staring straight ahead. "Do I seem like a princess to you, Chrom?" she burst out suddenly, after several strained seconds.

Chrom was initially confused by the question. "Well… if you aren't, you owe us some rent for your room in the castle."

Lissa rolled her eyes. "That's not what I mean and you know it!" Suddenly she went quiet again. "It's just, I look at Emmeryn, and I realize I would never be able to do what she does. All that suffering, all that responsibility, and she's as calm as she always is on the outside. She doesn't care that her own heart is about to break, her own feelings must be a raging mess just like ours. Or worse! But somehow she does it."

Chrom sighed. "You know Emm, Lissa. She's an amazing person. For that matter, I don't think I can ever be like that either."

"But you don't have to be! You're the big hero of our country! You've got the hero-king's sword in your hand, and the brand of the exalt has been on your shoulder for as long as anyone can remember! I'm nineteen, and still the brand has not appeared. I can't fight. I can't lead. I just… feel like dead weight."

Chrom sighed again. "You're not deadweight, Lissa. Listen to me. I know how you feel. I look at Emmeryn and I wonder the same things. But Lissa, you are special in your own way. Maybe you aren't a leader now, but you could be someday. And even if you aren't, there isn't a single person I know who you can't bring a smile to, except maybe Lon'qu. Anyways, what I'm saying is, you just need to be yourself. That's good enough for everyone else, so that should be good enough for you."

Lissa blinked. Chrom's little monologue was more eloquent than she expected. "Whoa. Who are you and what have you done with Chrom?"

"Chrom's had a lot of time to think these things over," he answered, laughing.

* * *

"Gaius!" Robin called to the rogue. Chrom had offered the thief a place among the Shepherds. Gaius seemed hesitant about it, but Chrom insisted he'd be given a room to stay for the night, and told him to take whatever time he needed to think it over.

"Hello Bubbles," Gaius answered casually. He was in the middle of mending a small tear in his shirt.

"Bubbles?" Robin asked, bewildered. "Never mind. I just wanted a word with you."

"Did you, now?" Gaius asked, uninterested. With a clever flick of his fingers, he tied the last threads together and casually donned his mended shirt. "You got any sweets on you?"

"Not on me. You know, I'm sure we could get you some new clothes if you needed them," Robin began hesitantly. Gaius didn't answer. "Okay, fine, never mind that. Look, I just wanted to ask you to, well, seriously consider Chrom's offer."

"Is that all?" Gaius asked, still sounding thoroughly bored. "I told him I'd consider it, and I'm good for my word. I might be a thief but I have my honor. You sure you don't have any candies on you?"

"I can believe that," Robin said. "You have the look of someone who's alone, though. And for one brief moment of my life that I can remember, I felt the same way. When Chrom and the others found me, I was alone, and without memories. They gave me a chance, and even though it hasn't been an easy road, it's been a satisfying one so far.

"Maybe you've had a difficult childhood. I guess it's probably even worse than not remembering your childhood at all. But you did a good thing tonight, helping the exalt, and helping us. You can start over if you want to."

"Are you a priest now?" Gaius asked with a low chuckle. "Bubbles, believe me. I heard the offer, I know what it meant. But there's some things you just can't let go of, you know?"

"Are you referring to the tattoo?" Robin asked. Gaius looked up, alarmed. "It's the sign of a convicted felon, is it not?"

"You saw that? Bah. It's nothing, Bubbles. My life has been full of bad choices, and I got busted trying to do a favor for an old mate of mine," Gaius said. "Mind keeping it under your hat?"

Robin shrugged. "Chrom forgave you already for your part in letting the assassins in. I doubt he cares about some minor slip-up a while back. Why would you let a little bit of history like that hold you back?"

Gaius grimaced, but did not answer. Robin thought about it for a moment, then remembered the look Maribelle had shot him.

"You know Maribelle, don't you?" Robin asked.

"Who's Maribelle?"

"The girl you were refusing to make eye contact with," Robin replied impatiently.

"Perhaps," Gaius admitted.

"She stands besides Chrom. If Chrom forgives you, I'm sure she will be willing to live and let live," Robin said. Gaius looked unconvinced. "Tell me what happened, then," Robin pushed.

Gaius hesitated a bit longer. Finally, to Robin's surprise, he nodded and began his story. By the end of it, Robin was shocked – he had no idea corruption could run so deeply in Ylisse's old houses.

"Maribelle will understand," Robin said, weakly. He believed it, but he wondered if Maribelle would truly want to hear Gaius's tale. "She's nicer than she seems." Gaius only shrugged. "Okay, well, how about this? I'll convince her that you can be trusted for now, and you can tell her your story yourself one day. When you're ready."

"Why?" Gaius asked simply. "I'm an old thief with loose morals."

"You're a good person who just needs a little direction," Robin corrected. "And this world needs all the good people it can get, since there are people like Gangrel who have us at a disadvantage. Think it over, Gaius."

With those parting words, Robin left Gaius deep in thought, pondering the future, much like every other Shepherd that night.


	7. Chapter 5: Element of Treachery

**Chapter 5: Element of Treachery**

In a way, the road was surprisingly comfortable, Robin thought. The dissonance in Ylisstol was rather stifling. The populace was clearly aware of the ill tidings, but even still, there was no fear, and worst of all, no action. The darkness just loomed overheard, with the citizens hoping it would go away of its own accord. Ferox had felt a little too different. The Feroxi people just lived life their own way, and there was a certain exoticness to it that made it interesting, but not quite comforting.

So that left the road, the only real home Robin remembered. Sparring in the mornings with Frederick and Lon'qu. Tallying supplies and tracking their needs with Miriel and Ricken. Playing board games with Virion. Sharing novels with Sumia. Laughing by the campfire with Vaike, Stahl, Sully, and Kellam.

Even with the exalt along, even accompanied by stern Captain Phila and a pair of her elite Pegasus knights, out here it felt like life was normal. Or at least, as normal as it ever could be, when he wasn't being chased around by Sully's protective horse after the creature discovered him trying to pull Vaike away from spying on the impromptu women's bath. Or when Lissa, bored with the trek already, slipped a frog down his shirt.

Although they were closer to war than ever, out here, they could be people – not soldiers or guards, but the young adults who needed a little bit of light in their dreary lives.

Gaius had accepted Chrom's offer, the morning they left Ylisse. The rogue was young, but he had lived quite the wild life already, and always had a tale or two at the ready. Unlike Virion's majestic fantasies, Gaius's stories could be crude, but were almost always more comedy than boast. The Shepherds, save Maribelle, had accepted him wholeheartedly into the fold. Even Maribelle was grudgingly civil.

"Why do I feel so uncomfortable about this, then?" Robin mused quietly.

"Why do you?" Chrom asked, overhearing.

Robin grinned. "Well, for starters, I don't think you've gotten any sleep for three days now, ever since the night the assassins came."

"Have you?" Chrom shot back, grinning as well. "Seriously though, now you're beginning to sound like Sumia."

"Sumia?" Robin asked, surprised.

Chrom laughed. "She can be surprisingly forceful at times. Incidentally, I've been explicitly ordered to tell you that I'll be in my tent, actually sleeping, so our sparring match would have to wait."

Robin nodded. "That's fine." He had invited Chrom to spar with him in the evenings. Under Frederick's tutelage, he had already improved greatly, but Frederick was really only helping with basic combat principles and improving physical strength. Lon'qu had demonstrated Feroxi swordplay time and time again, but the Feroxi warriors were trained to battle each other, and their techniques would be less effective against cavalry, fliers, or even other mages. Still, if it meant his friend was actually going to get some rest, he could put it off. "Remind me to thank Sumia."

Chrom rolled his eyes. "What else?"

Robin looked at him questioningly.

"You said 'for starters', which means there's something else eating at you," Chrom said. "So, what is it?"

Robin adopted a pensive look. "I don't know," he admitted. "But something just feels… off. I can't place it, but I feel like we're missing something important."

"Well, I trust your feelings… I'll keep an eye out for anything weird. Let me know if you figure it out, alright?" Chrom said, patting Robin on the back reassuringly.

* * *

Trying to jog his mind a little, Robin ended up wandering down the Shepherd's marching procession, until he came across Sumia.

"Oh, hey! Sumia!" Robin hailed. "I forgot, I still have that book you lent me a couple weeks ago," he said, fishing the book out of his pouch.

"Oh. No worries!" Sumia said brightly. Her armor looked a little bit disheveled.

"You didn't trip and fall again, did you?" Robin asked. Sumia blushed. "Never mind, those new boots of yours don't look any more comfortable than the last pair."

Sumia laughed. "You're right," she acknowledged. "Captain Phila insists they're great for riding Pegasi, but I'm beginning to wish I had packed my old boots."

"By the way, I heard Chrom's gotten himself grounded for tonight," Robin teased. Sumia blushed again.

"It's for his own good," she said defensively.

"I know, I know," Robin said quickly. "Thank you. Chrom really does push himself too hard. Although you have to tell me your secret – Lissa, Frederick, and I all try to get him to rest, and it never gets us anywhere."

"Sorry, I promised I wouldn't tell," Sumia said brightly. "But to be quite honest… I think Chrom knows it himself, deep down. That he needs to rest too, I mean. It's not the little tricks – Chrom just needs to be reminded once in a while that we need him to stay in good condition. And you all help with that."

Robin rolled his eyes. "He could've had me fooled."

* * *

As Robin was heading back to his position near the front with Chrom, it suddenly hit him. He hastened to Chrom's side.

"Chrom," he said urgently.

"Robin?" Chrom asked. "Did you think of something?"

"Yes. Back when we found Gaius, he said someone left a window open for him to slip in, remember?"

"You heard Phila," Chrom said with a shrug. "It could be anyone. Any of the castle servants, or even a guest in the castle. We won't know who it was for a while. We might never know."

"And if it's not just a servant? What if it's one of the nobles who frequently visit the castle? If they know of the eastern palace, and about Emmeryn's departure, they would know that right now, Ylisse is truly leaderless," Robin said, concerned.

"It wouldn't matter," Chrom said confidently. "Leader or no leader, Ylisse can't stand against Plegia in its current state. It can only hope to slow an invasion. We're far enough from the border now – the important thing is that Emmeryn is safe for now. If they attack, we will just have to return and hold on until Feroxi reinforcements arrive. Besides, the only people who know of this trip are the people here. Shepherds, Captain Phila, the two Pegasus knights she brought, the hierarch, and Emmeryn herself."

Something still ate at Robin. Plegia's reach had already proved farther than they imagined when they struck at the castle. The possibility existed that their location and plans had already been betrayed, and if that were the case, were they truly safe out here?

A sudden cry from the lookouts confirmed his suspicions, although not in the way he expected.

"Wyverns!"

* * *

They were surrounded. A score of wyvern riders were circling their position, like great birds of prey. They had evidently carried more soldiers with them, for another dozen soldiers blocked the pass.

The Plegians had evidently chosen their ambush spot with care. The Shepherds were pinned between the edge of a tall cliff to the south and impassable mountains to the north, a location labeled on the map as "Breakneck Pass."

For a moment, Robin was stunned. A score of wyverns, this far past their lines? Then the pieces clicked together.

"Where's the hierarch?" Robin said with sudden ferocity. Bewildered, Chrom turned to point out the older man, only to find that Ylisse's most favored consultant was rushing to greet their enemies head on.

"Damn!" Robin swore. Suddenly, Chrom understood, and he let out a few choice swear words of his own. Robin turned to Stahl, who was riding closest. "Stahl, get Ricken and Miriel, and go alert Captain Phila. The hierarch has betrayed us. Keep the exalt away from the fighting, and don't let any of these wyverns approach her!"

"Got it, Robin," Stahl acknowledged, and he set off to gather the mages.

Meanwhile, Chrom sprinted forwards. The hierarch was speaking to the leader of the wyvern riders, and Chrom needed answers. But he was too late.

"True, I do have orders to protect a man," the man sitting astride the wyvern admitted, a look of disgust on his face. "But I see no man here! Only a pig! A rash of traitorous bacon that sold out his own sovereign!" The hierarch stuttered and stammered, hoping for some escape. But the rider suddenly closed in, his wyvern grasping the traitor in its vicious maw. "You're a pathetic excuse for a human being," he snarled. "Any last words?"

Before the hierarch could speak, to offer any excuses, to defend himself, or to repent for his crime, the wyvern hurled the wounded man back to the ground forcefully. A precisely thrown axe from the rider later and Ylisse's hierarch was no more.

"Prince Chrom!" the wyvern rider called, upon seeing the approaching lord. "I am Captain Vasto of the Plegian wyvern knights. My orders were clear. Surrender the exalt and the Fire Emblem to me now, or you will all be destroyed!"

Chrom growled. "Not on my life!"

"So be it," Vasto said, dispassionately. With a kick, he spurred his mount back into the air and took his place in the rear, above his foot soldiers, and with his two lieutenants hovering beside him. "Seize the exalt and the Emblem!" he ordered. The wyverns all around them began their descent, as the foot soldiers began to advance.

At Robin's signal, Sumia rushed forward towards Chrom. "Captain!" she cried. When Chrom realized how far extended he was, he gratefully climbed aboard the winged steed, and they quickly flew back to rejoin the column.

"Virion and I will keep the wyverns at bay," Robin explained. "Let them come to us – the pass is wider at this point, and will give you more room to maneuver." Lon'qu, Sully, Kellam, and Vaike rushed to Chrom's side, the five of them cautiously eyeing the approaching Plegian line. Then Robin noted that the wyverns had gathered to the north before descending, leaving the southern skies clear. "Sumia, take your Pegasus and head south, over the cliffs. A Pegasus probably can't handle a wyvern one-on-one, let alone several at once. Stay clear unless you see an opening."

That was all the time they had. The wyverns launched a concerted attack to their northern flank. Robin pulled forth an old dusty wind tome he had retrieved from Ylisse's limited armory, and immediately blew one of the wyverns out of the air. Virion was less fortunate – his arrows had to strike the wings precisely, as the rest of the wyvern was armored, either naturally or in steel. It took him three shots to bring down one of the wyverns, the first two simply glancing off the torso of the moving target.

The others bore down on Chrom and those with him, who were already facing off with the Plegian foot soldiers. Robin and Virion kept up a steady barrage, but still, too many wyverns remained. Vaike was forced to fall back, a serious gash in his side from a wyvern's maw, only saved by a timely javelin hurled by Sumia killing the rider. Chrom was bleeding from the arm, after being distracted by a wyvern, then barely deflecting a Plegian foot soldier's lance aimed at his heart.

"Maribelle! Lissa!" Robin cried. Maribelle was apparently an able rider, and she and Lissa rushed forward astride her horse to meet their wounded in retreat. Another wyvern rider turned its attention to them, but a quick gust of wind magic sent him careening into his own ally, dropping both wyverns out of the air.

Sumia had flown back into the fray upon seeing her captain in danger. Brave, but foolish, as she was clearly outmatched. Even with her maneuverability, the wyvern she challenged was able to keep her Pegasus at bay, allowing its rider to hurl hand axe after hand axe at the vulnerable woman. The distraction helped though, and pretty soon, only six of the initial twelve wyverns remained. Three more waited up ahead – Robin could only hope that Phila and her riders, along with the mages, handled the ones targeting the exalt.

"We could really use some more air support," Robin said with a grimace. The wyvern riders had become wiser, keeping themselves out of Virion and Robin's range whenever possible. Sumia had finally extracted herself, but not unscathed – her Pegasus had taken a stray axe to one of her forelegs, hindering her maneuverability. From afar, the wound didn't look serious, but Sumia was out of the fight. Lissa's staff had also apparently been expended, shattering after repairing a leg wound Lon'qu suffered.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a Pegasus approaching from the southwest. "Captain Phila!" he called, hoping the gods were kind enough to grant him the reinforcements he needed.

To his surprise though, the rider was not Captain Phila, nor any other rider that he knew. The rider's red hair flew wildly behind her as she guided the Pegasus towards them.

"Prince Chrom! Captain Phila! Beware! Enemy reinforcements to the rear! They'll be upon us soon!" the woman cried.

Captain Phila had flown over to greet the newcomer, but, having sized up the situation, the new rider immediately surged towards the battle, lance drawn.

Two of the wyverns met the challenge head on, splitting, then flanking the Pegasus rider. But, distracted as they were, they missed Robin rushing down the field. Robin had drawn dangerously close to the foot soldiers, but the wyvern riders were within range once more. A carefully placed blast of wind brought down another wyvern, before he drew his sword to meet one of the Plegian fighters bearing down on him, axe in hand.

To her credit, the red-haired Pegasus rider danced around her opponent's poorly aimed throwing axes, before piercing his wyvern's wings with a carefully aimed javelin. The wyvern collapsed with a screech, drawing the attention of the other riders.

Thankfully, Captain Phila soon joined aerial duel, with her two Pegasus knights close behind. With Virion closing in, bow at hand, the remaining wyverns began dropping, one after another. The last two wyverns retreated soon after, grouping up with Vasto and his lieutenants. Vasto himself looked pretty alarmed – the battle had not gone as he had anticipated at all.

The Shepherds, on the other side of the pass, were regrouping as well. To Robin's dismay, Virion's arrows had been mostly expended. Captain Phila's mount was wounded, and her two other riders were in similar straits, having fought two consecutive battles against the wyverns in short order. All three of their mounts showed vicious claw or bite marks.

The newcomer's Pegasus had escaped any harm, but looked quite ragged as well.

"Cordelia, what are you doing here?" Phila demanded.

"There's no time," Robin put in quickly. "Cordelia, is it?" The red-haired woman turned to him curiously, then nodded. The slender woman was of about average height, just an inch or two shorter than he was, and she was outfitted in the standard light plate armor all the Pegasus knights wore. Her amber eyes were unfocused, with a bit of a shadow beneath them, and her long hair was rather disheveled. Robin winced guiltily as he realized the rider must be as exhausted as anyone else, but her Pegasus was the only one that was more or less in fighting condition.

Robin turned, watching as Vasto directed the remaining foot soldiers to advance, before flying forwards himself, the remaining four fliers behind him. "Kellam!" Robin called. "Pass me any javelins you have left!" The dark-haired knight rushed forward and did as Robin instructed.

"Cordelia, will your mount carry me?" Robin asked. "Virion here is out of ammunition. I need to get closer to the wyverns, or else this battle is over."

"You want me to fly you over to them?" Cordelia asked neutrally. She shot Captain Phila a questioning glance.

"He's Prince Chrom's tactician," Captain Phila introduced quickly. "Do as he says."

"Alright," Cordelia agreed. She brought her mount closer and helped Robin up. "Hold on tight," she warned.

Flying was a new experience for Robin. He hadn't known what to expect, and the swooping sensation had him clinging tightly to the woman's waist, wondering if he hadn't made a tactical mistake. He wasn't sure he could hold his breakfast down, let alone actually fight. But as they leveled out, he noticed Vasto drawing near. If he didn't act now, the battle was lost.

"A little closer," Robin instructed, a little bit faintly. "Here," he added, passing along the javelins Kellam had given him.

Cordelia did as he instructed, bringing him closer. Vasto, noticing the Pegasus rider's approach, gestured for two of the wyverns to handle the lone rider. His cocky expression turned to one of horror, as air magic soared out, sending one of the wyverns careening into the gorge below.

Robin's first shot had been a bit lucky. Shooting from the back of a Pegasus was quite different than from solid ground, but by the time his tome was expended, only one of the wyverns remained, the one bearing Vasto himself. Meanwhile, Chrom had led the other Shepherds into a charge, taking advantage of the distraction to clear out the remaining foot soldiers. Vasto made to flee, but a single, well-placed javelin put an end to the Plegian commander, and the battle of Breakneck Pass.

* * *

Cordelia's Pegasus touched down a short while later, allowing Robin to rejoin the other Shepherds. But Captain Phila immediately raced forward, on the verge of panic.

"Cordelia, what's going on!?" the normally stoic captain cried out. "Why are you here?"

To Robin's surprise, the red-haired rider seemed to be near tears. Still, she steeled herself quickly. "We have to go, right now. There are more wyverns coming, they'll be here by nightfall!"

"How?" Phila demanded. "Tell me the border is secure," she added faintly, desperate for some good news.

Cordelia only shook her head sadly. "They struck at nightfall. It was only a handful of soldiers at first, disguised as brigands again, but it was a trap. Their wyverns had us outnumbered and outmatched."

Robin felt sick – it was precisely the scenario he had feared. He silently cursed the hierarch's betrayal. He silently cursed himself for not detecting the betrayal earlier, and for allowing the Pegasus knights to be placed in danger. How many lives had that single choice cost?

Cordelia went on, answering his silent question. "My knight-sisters begged me to find and warn the exalt." Finally, the young woman broke, tears streaming down her face. "I should have stayed! I should have been there, fighting besides them!"

At last, Captain Phila adopted a softer expression. "No, Cordelia. You did your duty. But how did you possibly find us?"

Cordelia stifled her sobs. "The Plegians were reckless," she admitted. "Half of the force broke off as I was leaving, their captain ordering them to reinforce the ambush at Breakneck pass. I only preceded them here because they were carrying more soldiers, and must have stopped to rest at some point."

Robin looked astonished. "But… that means you've been flying for three days without rest! I suppose we've found you a new best friend, Chrom," he added. Robin immediately regretted the rather lighthearted comment, given the grim news they had just received.

Chrom and Phila froze for a moment. But to Robin's surprise, the levity proved well-timed, easing the tension a little. Chrom laughed weakly, with the air of someone who desperately needed something to smile about. Cordelia merely blushed and looked away shyly, refusing to meet the prince's eyes.

Unfortunately, any humor to be found proved to be short-lived, and the tension returned almost immediately. "We have to get moving," Chrom said with a frown. "Virion's salvaged a few arrows, but without that wind tome of yours, and with Lissa's staff broken, we can't handle another fight like that."

* * *

"I must return," Emmeryn answered, after Phila, Chrom, and Robin finished relaying Cordelia's tale.

"What!?" Chrom asked, flabbergasted. "We have wyverns right behind us! If you turn back, you'll be captured in an instant!"

"We can't outrun the wyverns," Emmeryn pointed out.

"Then I'll head back," Robin volunteered. "A few of the Shepherds will stay and hold them as long as we can, while you make straight for Ferox."

"No!" Chrom interrupted. "We're not sacrificing anyone!"

"We may be able to hold on!" Robin argued. "We can divert them, and if we return to the forest, we may elude them for some time, possibly long enough for you to get reinforcements." In truth, he knew there was no way reinforcements could return in time, but they really didn't have many options.

"No," Emmeryn said with a tone of finality. "We cannot sacrifice the Shepherds. Ylisse needs me and I will heed its call."

"That's insane!" Chrom exploded. "Ylisse needs you alive, Emm. We need you alive!"

"And I will be," Emmeryn answered gently, remaining firm. "I won't return to Ylisstol yet. Phila will escort me to one of the eastern provinces – there are least two of which are close. We will rally whatever force we may to defeat our pursuers, then march back to Ylisstol. If we are fortunate, we can marshal our forces before the Plegians reach the capital."

"And if we aren't so fortunate?" Chrom demanded. "What if Ylisstol falls before you return? What if you can't reach the dukes on time?"

"All the more reason for us to depart now," Emmeryn answered serenely. "Our options are few, Chrom. If we turn back, at least one of us, and possibly both will reach safety. Should we remain together, our lives and cause are lost."

Chrom turned to Robin, silently begging for another option, begging for a miracle. But Robin had no answers for him. A handful of Shepherds would not be able to rally any militia from the local villages. The only other possibility was for Chrom to turn back and Emmeryn to head towards Ferox. Chrom and Phila, buying them some time, and hopefully rallying a fighting force.

But even as he started to voice that suggestion, Emmeryn silenced him, clearly recognizing what was on his mind. "It is Chrom who impressed the Feroxi khans, and Chrom who holds a strong reputation in their eyes. He must be the one to head north."

"It's not fair!" Lissa cried, injecting herself in the conversation. "I know our people need you, Emm, but we need you too!"

"Phila," Emmeryn called. The Captain nodded and went to retrieve her steed, hoping the Pegasus had healed sufficiently. Ignoring their protests, Emmeryn embraced each of her younger siblings. "We will see each other again," she promised. Then, she lifted a large shield from her pack, which she handed to a shocked Chrom. "The Fire Emblem must not fall into the wrong hands," was all the explanation she offered. The golden shield bore intricate carvings, and five spherical sockets. One of the sockets held a sparking silver jewel, but the other four were empty.

Finally, she turned to face Frederick and Robin. "Frederick. Robin. Thank you both for everything you've done, for all the sacrifices you have made. Please, keep Chrom and Lissa safe."

"Of course, your grace," Frederick promised immediately, although Robin noted a tremor in his voice. Emmeryn turned to him.

"I promise," Robin whispered hoarsely.

* * *

The Shepherds, having spent far too much time discussing their course, set off as quickly as they could. By Cordelia's initial estimate, they had only a few hours lead on their pursuers. Thankfully, they had changed course. If they were fortunate, the pursuers would travel further to the northeast, rather than straight north, and find only an empty palace.

Privately, Robin expected that no pursuit would be coming at all. No one had said it aloud, but they all knew that rallying their Feroxi allies was Ylisse's last hope. Robin suspected that Emmeryn would instruct Phila to divert the attention of their pursuers, to buy as much time as they could. In all likelihood, the exalt would never make it to any of the nearby provinces.

He hoped he was wrong. He hoped Emmeryn would simply slip by their pursuers, and the pursuers would follow the original course, allowing both parties to escape safely. But in his heart, he knew that would not happen.

Finally, deep into the night, Chrom called a halt to the march. Although effective, the healing magic Lissa and Maribelle wielded did little for fatigue. Even after being healed, the wounded were extremely tired, and the horses and Pegasi were near collapse. Especially Cordelia's mount, who had not rested in days.

Phila had ordered Cordelia to remain with Chrom. Her force of Pegasus knights was in shambles, for according to Cordelia's tale, at least one of the four divisions was almost completely eradicated. The nature of the invasion indicated that the other three groups had likely met the same fate.

There were no tales by the campfire this time. No recounting of the feats of strength each Shepherd demonstrated in their earlier battle. Even Vaike was silent, sullenly prodding the flames. Most Shepherds had simply tried to make the most of this break and catch up on sleep, although a few remained vigilant, watching the skies, determined that if death found them that night, at least they'd see it coming.

* * *

"Are you alright, Sumia?" Robin asked. He had found the brunette resting against her tired mount, tethered along with the other animals.

"Hello Robin," Sumia said quietly, stroking Caeda's mane absentmindedly.

"You should get some rest," he remarked. "Even Chrom remembered his promise to you, after a little urging."

Sumia smiled briefly, but didn't stir.

"Sumia, I know things are grim right now. I know you're afraid. Everyone is. But we can't let fear stop us – we have to keep doing what we can."

"I know," Sumia answered quietly. She seemed to be struggling with her thoughts. Robin decided against pushing her further and instead waited silently, lying down on the grassy meadow himself. Finally, after several long seconds, Sumia spoke. "It's about Cordelia."

"Cordelia?" Robin asked, surprised. "What about her?"

"She's… feeling terrible. I want to help her. I want to say something to her. But I don't know what… so I'm just sitting here. Thinking," Sumia said sadly.

"It sounds like she's been through a lot," Robin admitted. "But nothing we can say tonight will change that."

"She's been my friend for so long, Robin," Sumia protested. "I should know her better than this, I should be able to help her!"

Robin blinked. "You know her?"

"My father was one of Emmeryn's knights, when she first became the exalt," Sumia explained. "But he was killed early during her reign during a riot, protecting her. My mother was already ill, and she passed away not long after. Exalt Emmeryn insisted that I be taken care of, and given a home in the castle. That's how Lissa, Maribelle, and I grew so close. Cordelia was the same age as me, and was already training to be a Pegasus knight. She was an orphan too, you see. She taught me most of what I know about Pegasi."

"An interesting coincidence," Robin remarked. "At least that means she's among friends here, right?"

"But what good are we?" Sumia said, raising her voice slightly. "She needs our help more than anything right now, and everyone is too tired to even think correctly!"

Robin thought for a moment. "You're right, Sumia. Everyone _is_ too tired. And sitting here thinking won't change that." Ignoring her angry glare, he went on. "The best thing you can do for her, the best thing you can do for anyone, is to go get some rest. We don't have a lot of time and you're not making good use of what we have."

"And just leave her all alone?" Sumia asked bitterly.

"You're leaving her alone right now, aren't you?" Robin pointed out. "Besides, she's probably sleeping too. Get some rest, and when you can think straight, find her. You're right – she needs her friends. So you need to make sure you're there for you when she needs you."

Sumia looked as if she was going to argue further, but then suddenly, she seemed to deflate. Reluctantly, she climbed to her feet. "I guess you're right," she admitted. "Thank you."

"Good night, Sumia," Robin said, rising to his feet as well.

"Good night, Robin. By the way, you should try listening to your advice yourself," she said, just a bit of energy returning.

Robin smiled, taking the hint, and headed back to the camp.

* * *

"It appears I am not the only member of our esteemed company finding himself a bit restless," Virion greeted, as Robin walked by him.

"Actually, I'm on my way to my tent right now. I was just making a final round, doing what I can."

"You seem quite troubled," Virion observed. "Perhaps you should give voice to your discomfort – a shared burden is often far lighter."

"You seem troubled yourself," Robin remarked. "Couldn't convinced any of the lovely ladies in the camp to share your bed?" he added dryly.

Virion laughed lightly. "I'm afraid the day's events have dampened even my considerable spirit. My jests can wait for another day. But yes, I am troubled. You recall my answer when you first pondered offering me your post as the Shepherd's chief strategist, yes?"

"Of course," Robin answered. "You pointed out that your strategies were only suitable for the game we played, and that your strategies were too costly to really be effective on a true battlefield."

"Indeed," Virion said with a heavy sigh. "I'm afraid our dear exalt's strategy is much like my own. Surely, you must have reached the same conclusion yourself."

Robin grimaced. So he wasn't alone in his fears. Chrom likely suspected the truth as well. "What matters most is Chrom reaching Ferox," Robin said, verbally replaying his reasoning. "Only the exalt could truly draw the attention of our pursuers. So she will have to show herself to draw their attention."

"Precisely," Virion agreed. "She must have realized it was the only way to ensure the safety of her brother and sister."

"And the Fire Emblem, as well," Robin recalled. Then he sighed deeply.

"I suppose it matters little now," Virion admitted. "You should get some rest, Robin."

Robin nodded. Then a thought occurred to him. He remembered telling Sumia that Cordelia would be resting as well. Surely, she should have been, after the long flight followed immediately by a grueling battle. But perhaps Sumia was right to worry.

"Virion, have you seen Cordelia? Is she settled in?" Robin asked curiously.

"The red-haired beauty?" Virion mused. "I don't know. I recall seeing her head towards the river after tethering her Pegasus with the other animals, but I'm afraid that's the last I've seen of her."

Robin groaned. He headed towards the river, wondering how to even approach the newest Shepherd if she was indeed still awake. This time for his own sake, he hoped that he was wrong and that Cordelia was sleeping soundly in one of the tents he walked past.

* * *

Robin was not wrong. Cordelia was sitting, on the riverbank, her riding boots laid out on the ground beside her and her feet resting in the flowing waters. If Virion's story was true, then she must've been here for an hour already.

"Cordelia?" Robin asked hesitantly.

"Hello," Cordelia answered quietly. Her voice seemed rather brittle, as if she was on the verge of tears once more. "Did you need something?"

Robin didn't answer immediately. He wasn't even sure what to say. Here was someone he didn't even know, who had just lost each and every one of her comrades. He tried imagining himself in her metaphorical shoes, but found it impossible. If the Shepherds met with disaster, he meant to stay by them until the end. He could not even imagine being the lone survivor, let alone living with the knowledge that he had abandoned them. And he had only known the Shepherds for a few weeks – Cordelia must have known her comrades for years.

"You should be resting," Robin finally said. Cordelia didn't answer, and he didn't blame her. It sounded weak even to him. "I know it's difficult. But you have to stay strong. You have to keep fighting, or else all the suffering, and all the pain, would have been for nothing." Again, Robin couldn't blame her for not answering, as the words echoed hollowly through his own mind.

It was then that he noticed Cordelia was shaking. "I… I can still hear their voices. I can still hear them screaming," she stammered. With that, she broke down and began sobbing once more. "Gods… oh gods… I was too weak…"

"You're not weak," Robin assured, placing a hand on her shoulder, in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. "You exactly did as they asked. You carried out your orders, and then you went further. Without you, many Shepherds could have died today. Chrom himself is alive, and likely wouldn't be if not for your help."

Cordelia collapsed on her side, still sobbing. Tears continued to stream down her face, and Robin began to wonder if he had done the right thing in seeking her out. Perhaps he should've just gone to bed after all. Then again, it wouldn't do the grieving woman any good to spend the night out here, either. He stood there and pondered the dilemma for several minutes, until he noticed that the Cordelia's sobs had quieted at last.

"I guess fatigue had to catch up eventually," he remarked sadly, when he realized Cordelia had fallen asleep, her face still wet with tears. With a sigh, he managed to lift the sleeping woman, and carry her back to the camp. Though she was quite slender and light, she was still wearing her armor, and Robin himself was quite weary from the day's battles. He was panting and trembling with exhaustion by the time he reached the campsite. To his relief, though, Cordelia hadn't stirred. As he stumbled near the tents, Virion spotted him and silently came to his side.

Robin then realized that Cordelia had never pitched a tent. He gestured towards his own tent instead, and with Virion's help, he managed to get the sleeping Pegasus knight onto his bedroll. He pulled the covers over her tenderly, hoping not to awaken her, before leaving her to her rest.

"That was quite noble of you, my friend," Virion said kindly. "Might I help you pitch another tent?"

"I'll be fine," Robin said, distractedly. Not in a mood to dig out another tent from the supply wagon, Robin simply picked a pleasant looking patch of grass to lay upon. He, too, fell asleep immediately.

As he dozed off, he remembered Marth's dire predictions. They may have saved the exalt once. But was it perhaps only borrowed time?

* * *

A night's respite proved invaluable towards bolstering morale. There was no rush to awaken, with many of the weary Shepherds sleeping in. Even Frederick skipped his morning training routine in favor of another hour's rest.

Some of the Shepherds showed renewed enthusiasm. The night before, many Shepherds had wondered whether the Plegians would continue their pursuit. Whether they would realize the Shepherds had changed course. Whether they would find the camp, and whether any Shepherds would survive until morning.

The seeds of fear proved barren. The first few Shepherds to awaken rekindled the campfires, and the smell of breakfast soon permeated the air. The sun was already past the horizon by the time the camp had awaken.

"Lissa," Robin groaned, as the princess shook him awake. "What time is it?"

Lissa smiled. "Way later than usual. How did you possibly manage to fall asleep out here?"

"Out where?" Robin murmured, the previous night's events a blur.

"There are better places to take a nap than on the ground, you know," Lissa said playfully, doing her best impression of Chrom.

Robin looked around, confused for a moment, until his head finally cleared. Interestingly enough, he had a blanket draped over him. Virion's work, Robin guessed.

He stood, groaning. The previous day's exertion, not to mention sleeping on the ground, had done a number on his joints, and his whole body felt stiff. "Good morning, Lissa," he said with a wide yawn.

"You do have a tent, don't you?" Lissa said, looking at him oddly. Robin rolled his eyes.

"Really? It must have slipped my mind."

The two made their way to the nearest campfire. Lon'qu was in the middle of warming several pieces of crusty bread, and had already unpacked some jerky as well. He passed Lissa and Robin each a plate silently.

"Good morning to you too," Lissa said, slightly miffed by their companion's silence. To Robin's surprise, Lon'qu actually smiled at that. It was a small smile, hardly noticeable, but he had begun to wonder if the Feroxi swordsman was even capable of emotion. Lissa ignored him though, and turned her attention to Robin instead. "So, Robin, what really happened last night?"

With a shrug, Robin described his encounter with Sumia, and then with Cordelia. He tactfully omitted the conversation he had shared with Virion, hoping to preserve the slightest sliver of hope a little longer.

"Aw, that's sweet of you," Lissa said, when he explained that he and Virion had left Cordelia in his tent. "But we have more tents and bedrolls in the supply cart, don't we?"

"I was too tired," Robin admitted sheepishly. Then, noticing Chrom pacing around the camp, he called out to the lord.

"I thought I'd never get any sleep," Chrom admitted. "I kept jumping at every little noise for a while, thinking the Plegians were upon us. But I guess my body had its own ideas."

Robin's lip grew thin upon hearing Chrom's fears. So Chrom believed the Plegians would still in pursuit, and had simply stopped or gone off-track. For all their sakes, he hoped Chrom was right.

"Well, let's get a move on," Chrom finally suggested, when Robin's silence began making him nervous. "From this road we could likely reach Ferox by nightfall."

"Right," Robin said. Swallowing the rest of his bread, he leapt to his feet. "I'll spread the word."

* * *

The night's rest had rejuvenated the Shepherds thoroughly. Pressured by the urgency of the situation, the Shepherds arrived at the Longfort early in the evening. By nightfall, they were resting in the safety of the east-khan's castle. Chrom, Robin, Frederick, Lissa, and Sumia remained in Flavia's audience chamber, awaiting the news.

The messengers Phila had sent from Ylisstol had preceded them, and Ferox was already mobilizing. Upon hearing the dire news from Chrom, Khan Flavia had ordered the soldiers to hasten the preparations, making any adjustments necessary to depart by the next morning.

"I bet she's safe in the castle right now," Lissa said. She tried to say so confidently, but her shaky tone made her doubts clear. "Phila's with her, and I'm sure she has an army by her side already. Even if Plegia has reached Ylisstol, they will hold," she continued.

Robin didn't have the heart to answer aloud, but he nodded halfheartedly. Lissa frowned and turned to her brother before going on. "We're leaving tomorrow right? With Khan Flavia's best warriors. We'll make it home in time. I know we will!"

Chrom didn't answer.

"Chrom?" Lissa asked, agitated. "Chrom, say something! Come on!"

Chrom looked at her, seeming rather dazed. "What?"

"Ugh!" Lissa whined. "Get out of your own head for a second!" She turned to Robin, who shrugged helplessly, and Frederick, who simply stared at the wall stoically. Finally, she turned to Sumia, who nodded.

"Captain?" Sumia asked. Chrom didn't respond, his gaze resting on nothing in particular. "Snap out of it, Captain!" With that, Sumia drew her arm back, and threw a punch at Chrom's face.

"Ouch!" Chrom cried, alarmed, and he fell back a step. "What the hell was that for?" he cried, surprised.

Sumia looked terrified. "Did I do it wrong? I'm sorry! Captain Phila said sometimes a good slap will break someone out of their doldrums…"

Lissa giggled. "Sumia, when you slap someone, you do it with an open palm. You just punched Chrom in the face!"

Sumia looked rather mortified. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" she kept apologizing.

"He deserved it," Lissa said, rolling her eyes.

"Gods… you throw one hell of a punch," Chrom said, smiling slightly as he rubbed his sore cheek.

A loud laugh alerted them to their audience. During the commotion, Flavia had returned. "What's wrong, my dear prince? Sometimes love hurts! You're lucky to have strong women like these, and not just dainty flowers about."

Chrom grimaced. He didn't feel particularly lucky at that moment, but maybe things were finally looking up. "Any news?"

"Not from Ylisstol. But Ferox is almost ready to march. We'll set off first thing in the morning. Every last man is itching for a fight. I must say, I'm looking forward to savoring a skirmish or two myself!"

"You're coming too?" Robin asked surprised.

"Of course!" Khan Flavia answered with a broad grin. "No khan worth her salt would spend a war sitting on the sidelines. I'm even bringing my insignificant other. Now go get some rest. We leave at daybreak."

It was certainly some good news, Robin thought. But all he could think about were Marth's dire warnings, about the war dragging on. He could only hope this wasn't the first step to the calamity that Marth had alluded to.


	8. Chapter 6: Servants of Despair

**Chapter 6: Servants of Despair**

As it turned out, the Shepherds weren't quite ready to leave the break of dawn. "Robin, we need to talk," Frederick said, his countenance as stern as always. Robin was alarmed at first, fearing the worst, but Frederick merely directed the tactician's attention to the condition of their equipment.

"We don't have a lot of time. The exalt provided the Shepherds with a reasonable amount of funds before we left Ylisstol, and we would do well to replace some of our damaged weapons," Frederick suggested.

Robin nodded, a little annoyed at himself for not realizing it sooner. His own tome was half expended, and his sword showed some signs of degradation, but compared to the rest of their weaponry, his gear was in excellent shape. Frederick's own lance, a beautifully balanced silver work of art, was falling apart and would likely not last another battle, and that was just the beginning. Only Chrom's sword seemed to remain in perfect condition. "Do the Feroxi have some spare weapons we can use? It may be faster if we don't have to buy everything from scratch."

Frederick nodded. "Khan Flavia had some spare weapons, although most of her armory was already distributed to her men. She's given us what she can, along with food for the journey. I suspect the Feroxi smithies will have only limited stock as well, given the situation, but at this point we can't afford to be choosy."

Robin invited Miriel, who was perhaps the best at keeping inventory, and along with Frederick, they visited several of the stores in town. As Frederick predicted, many smithies were entirely sold out. Robin did find some more healing staves, a replacement for Lissa's and an extra one to hold in reserve. He also found a pair of new lances for sale, which seemed suitable for Frederick and Sumia.

He wasn't surprised to learn that there were no tomes available; the Feroxi weren't enamored of magic, even of the conventional elemental persuasion. But he was further disappointed when he learned that most medical supplies had been sold out. "We'll just have to scavenge up some herbs," Robin said, hoping to soothe an alarmed Frederick. "Stahl knows a bit about scavenging wild plants, it won't be too bad."

Hoping the rest of the day would be better, they rejoined the Shepherds, their new armaments in hand. His hopes proved to be too optimistic.

* * *

"Chrom!"

Chrom turned, recognizing the voice. They had only just passed the Longfort, marching along with the east-khan's personal division. The fierce west-khan, Khan Basilio, was striding towards them, a grim expression on his face.

"About time, you oaf!" Flavia barked. "Robin was even wondering if you bailed on us!"

"What!?" Basilio roared, turning to the tactician, who cringed.

"Never mind that," Chrom said, hoping to keep Robin in one piece.

"I didn't mean… I was just worried that you were held up," Robin apologized meekly.

Basilio glared angrily a moment longer, but then turned back to Chrom, his expression unusually sympathetic.

"Ylisstol has fallen."

Robin felt as if his blood turned to ice. Chrom, too, froze in shock. Even Frederick and Lissa were at loss for words.

They held the tableau for a few moments, before Frederick finally managed to ask the question on all of their minds. "What of the exalt?"

Basilio seemed to struggle internally for a moment. Finally deciding there was no good way to put it, he spoke. "Exalt Emmeryn was not in Ylisstol. The Mad King claims his men captured her as she attempted to flee before the Plegian invasion. The Ylissean people don't believe him, of course, but without the exalt, and with the Pegasus knights in shambles and the Shepherds absent, Ylisstol surrendered, almost without a fight. Gangrel declared that Emmeryn would be publicly executed."

"E-executed?" Chrom stammered. Lissa's eyes widened in panic.

"When?" Frederick demanded urgently.

"Ten days from now," Basilio answered

"Subtlety really is lost on that dastard, isn't it?" Flavia remarked bitterly. The irony of a Feroxi khan speaking of subtlety was not lost upon Robin, but somehow, he couldn't bring himself to smile.

"Chrom…" Robin began uneasily, already knowing what was on his friend's mind.

Chrom ignored him. "Frederick, alert the Shepherds. We're marching straight to Plegia."

"Chrom! You can't do this, it's an obvious trap!" Robin protested. "Ten days? Gangrel is practically daring us to attempt a rescue!"

"I don't care!" Chrom roared angrily. "He's going to murder my sister!"

"Hold on boy, what good will you do your sister by joining her at the chopping block, eh?" Basilio demanded fiercely, grabbing Chrom's shoulder. Chrom leveled an icy stare at Basilio, who, to everyone's surprised, flinched and let go.

"Chrom, no one is suggesting we don't act," Flavia said, consolingly. "But we need to think this through. Rushing headlong into a trap doesn't do you any good."

"We've never lost before!" Chrom retorted. "Let the Mad King lay what traps he can – we'll crush right through them!"

"Milord, each of our battles has been more difficult than the last," Frederick reminded gently. "If it weren't for Robin guiding our blades so carefully, we would have crossed the edge of disaster long ago."

"Chrom, please. We can't lose our heads now," Robin begged. "I'll think of something, Chrom. I promise."

Chrom sighed heavily, but protested no further.

"Actually," Robin said, his mind already whirling. "Chrom had the right idea – all the plans in the world won't help us if we're not in Plegia. Even if we march to Ylisstol, we could still make it deep into Plegia within the ten days he's given us."

"He's giving time for the word to spread," Frederick concluded. "He doesn't know when word will reach us, and he's trying to ensure we will make it there."

"That's perfect," Robin said absentmindedly. "That means we have time to search for a safe route across the border. Any traps he might lay will have to be at the execution itself, and if we hurry, we might be able to spot them out."

He turned to Frederick. "Alert the Shepherds, we march towards Plegia." He then turned to Khan Flavia, who understood at once.

"We're with you, Robin. But are you certain you're up to the task? It won't be easy. You hold all of our lives in one hand, and the exalt's in the other," Flavia reminded. "It is quite a heavy burden to carry alone."

Robin smiled. "A wise woman said something similar before regarding burdens, and my reply has not changed. For someone who once had nothing to lose, responsibility to friends and family is not a burden, but purpose."

* * *

The new course would have them at Plegia's borders within four days. It wasn't a direct route, but Robin was confident it was the safest. They would cross through the desert along the northern part of Plegia-Ylisse border, in a region known as the Border Sands. With few nearby resources, and a hostile desert, the Plegian forces had little reason to be stationed there, and the open sands would make it easy for their Pegasus knights to spot any ambushes. Finally, the Feroxi force accompanying them was a healthy mix of light and heavy infantry, along with several archers. From Robin's experiences so far, the Plegians relied more on heavy infantry and cavalry, who would be more easily bogged down by the sand. Only the wyverns would pose a significant threat, but they would pose a threat no matter what, anyways.

Should all go according to plan, they could reach the Plegian capital with three days to spare. That gave them a comfortable margin-of-error should a fight find them, as well as some time to plan the actual rescue.

To Robin's dismay, a fight found them before they were even halfway to the border.

* * *

"I doubt we can reach them in time," Frederick muttered grimly. Sumia had reported that a pack of rogue Plegian soldiers were advancing on a small village. It seemed the soldiers, disguised as bandits, had been abandoned and had settled into their new lifestyle rather comfortably.

Chrom gazed upon the sight uncomfortably. His need to save his sister battled with his duty to protect his people, and he wavered indecisively.

"We have to try," Robin finally said, drawing surprise looks from both Chrom and Frederick. "But not all of us. We can't let this delay us too long."

Chrom nodded appreciatively. "What's the plan?"

"Cavalry only," Robin said quickly. "Frederick, can your mount carry two riders?" When Frederick nodded, he continued. "Cordelia is probably still recovering – she can relieve Sumia in scouting ahead. We'll need Sumia to fly out to that village and warn them – maybe they can seal the gates and buy us some time. Meanwhile, Frederick, Stahl, Sully, and I can head down there. We may want Maribelle along, too, just in case."

Chrom nodded. "Alright. Sounds like you know what you're doing. But I'm coming too. I'll go with Sumia, and protect the villagers until you arrive."

"Alright," Robin said agreeably. Frederick looked as if he was about to protest, but thought better of it, and instead went and roused the others, relaying the plan quickly to Khan Flavia.

A few short minutes later and the Shepherds rode out to meet the bandits.

* * *

Though many of the bandits were Plegian, their leaders spoke with a Feroxi accent. Two great thugs with crude facial paint turned when they heard the Shepherds approach. The two looked quite similar. Brothers, perhaps, maybe even twins.

"By order of Prince Chrom of Ylisse, you are to surrender and leave this village in peace," Frederick demanded, as Robin hopped off the horse, drawing his tome. The two leaders looked at each other for a moment, then laughed.

"Worth a shot," Robin said with a shrug.

"I'm afraid not, friends," one of the two said silkily. His voice, deliberately pitched, was rather grating. "What a thriving little hamlet it is. A fine bit of pillaging it will make!"

"It most certainly will, Vincent," the other brute answered. His voice was much lower, but carried the same, mocking tone.

"Well then, I believe it is my turn to do the honors, isn't it, Victor?"

"I do believe it is, brother mine," Victor answered. "Do try not to kill all of them this time, hmm? It makes it rather difficult to find the loot afterwards."

"Of course, dear brother," Vincent answered. "I'm off then." With that, Vincent set off towards the village, a handful of his bandits in tow. Frederick moved as if to follow, but the other bandit leader, Victor, raised a hand-axe threateningly. His band followed suit.

A bolt of lightning thundered past, dropping one of the bandits where he stood. The others turned to their fallen comrade. Unperturbed by the sudden death of one of their number, the bandits surged forward to meet the Shepherds head on.

* * *

"Hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I'm afraid this village is closed."

Vincent was rather surprised to see, of all people, a pretty young red-haired woman standing up to him, a hundred paces from the village. The girl had a cheery, yet devious smile on her face, and her eyes were lit with mischief. Her hair hung down in a long ponytail. She looked rather athletic, but was rather short, just shy of five feet in height. She was casually twirling a fancy curved long sword behind her.

"Well, aren't you a fetching young thing," Vincent remarked, a crude grin plastered across his face. "And fetching young things fetch good coin. In fact, the gold you net from the slavers will build us a fine home!" With that declaration, he drew his axe.

A moment later, he howled in pain. The girl had rushed straight at him, and before he could react, she had slashed both his wrists. The axe had fallen from his grip, crushing his own foot.

"Careful, love," the girl said teasingly. "We traders are known to make some very deep cuts."

"Kill her!" the furious bandit roared, as he fled the battle. His soldiers closed in, hesitantly at first, but they did have her outnumbered.

That changed rather quickly, as Chrom dropped behind them, the snow cushioning the impact. Even as the remaining brigands became aware of his presence, Falchion cut the nearest one down. Out of the corner of his eye, he noted Sumia descending into the village.

The remaining three bandits had a little more fight in them, but they were simply outmatched. When Chrom dispatched two of them with practiced ease, the final bandit gave a shout of fright before fleeing after his retreating leader.

"Milady, are you hurt?" Chrom asked, turning his attention to the woman. "Oh. You look fine, actually. I guess it was silly of me to be worried."

"Yes, but it's sweet all the same, handsome," the woman answered cheerfully.

"You seem to have things well in hand here. My friends are dealing with the rest of the rogues now. If it's all the same to you, I'll stick around until they're cleaned up. Just in case those two come back this way."

"Aw, you ARE worried!" the woman squealed excitedly. "That's adorable. The name's Anna… some call me the secret seller though."

"Secret seller?" Chrom asked, confused.

"Yep. I'm sure we'll meet again someday, and I'll cut you an extra-special deal when we do!"

* * *

Less than an hour later, the strike force rejoined the rest of the Shepherds. The remaining bandit leader had fought to the death, Frederick retrieving the brute's fine steel axe for Vaike. The villagers, grateful for the rescue, had also pressed a healing staff upon Sumia when they learned the identity of their saviors.

Sully had taken a blow from one of the bandits, but Maribelle had mended the wound promptly. Robin, too, suffered a nasty cut on the arm, but he refused her healing, promising to treat it himself when they returned.

"Blast," Robin groaned, when he found the last of the medical pouches empty of any vulnerary herbs. "I completely forgot about getting more herbs." In hindsight, he should have had Sumia purchase any available supplies from the village, but he had been a little too occupied with ending the battle quickly without disrupting their march. He inspected the wound. "No salve for me I guess. Oh well, at least I should bandage it up."

"You're not out of salve."

Robin spun, and to his surprise, Cordelia was right behind him. She turned and lifted a small crate from the cart. "Oh… hello, Cordelia." He hadn't spoken to Cordelia since the one night by the river, and Robin didn't think that really counted, seeing as he was lost for words for most of that conversation, until finally Cordelia passed out. It looked as if Cordelia had been getting adequate rest, after all. Her long hair still looked rather messy, but there was a renewed spring in her graceful step, and the dark rings around her eyes had mostly faded.

The woman pulled several herbs from the crate, inspecting them carefully, before placing a couple of them in a small stone mortar. "I noticed we were running out, so I went and picked some this morning. Here," she said, presenting him with the ground herbs. "This should help."

"Thanks!" Robin said appreciatively, reaching for the mixture. But to his surprise, Cordelia withdrew offered salve.

"Allow me," she said, after a brief pause. She motioned for Robin to sit. He complied obediently, and she applied the soothing mixture to his arm.

"By the way, I don't believe we've been formally introduced," Robin said, feeling awkward sitting there in silence. "I'm Robin, the Shepherd's tactician."

"I know," Cordelia said brusquely. Then she cringed – she hadn't meant to reply so harshly. "Sorry... I'm Cordelia. I'm one of Ylisse's Pegasus knights." She cringed again. "Well. I was… there," she added, changing the subject, as she finished binding the wound. "You should rest it for at least a couple days."

"A swordsman, resting his sword arm for a couple days in the middle of the war," Robin remarked dryly. "That seems wise."

Cordelia laughed lightly. "I mean it, Robin. You stress it out, and it'll get worse. You probably should've let Lissa or Maribelle tend to it magically."

Robin sighed. "If I must. But only if things turn sour. Our resources are limited enough already."

"You know, you are our tactician. I'd say that's a pretty valuable resource too," Cordelia observed. "Certainly one worth keeping in good shape. Speaking of resources, I had some free time this morning so I went through our inventory."

"Weren't you supposed to be resting?" Robin asked pointedly. "Besides, Miriel has been tracking our inventory for us."

"I guess, but I was feeling restless," Cordelia admitted. "And I think Miriel speaks her own language – some of the numbers were helpful but these notations don't mean anything to me. Can you make sense of them?" She offered Robin the logbook, but Robin knew better than to look into it.

"That's why I just leave inventory to her," Robin admitted. "She tried to teach me, and it went right over my head. I wonder if it even makes sense to her."

"Well," Cordelia said with a smile, "This one should be more legible." She passed him a scroll of parchment. "Also, some of her counts were out of date, and we're definitely missing at least one axe."

"Missing an axe? Never mind, I think I know what happened," Robin said with a groan. Good thing they had claimed a new one from that bandit earlier. Hopefully Vaike wouldn't misplace this one too – they didn't have time to scavenge for lost weaponry. He looked at the scroll.

"Wow, this will be pretty useful," he admitted. "Thanks. You're a genius." Cordelia flinched. "Did I say something wrong?" Robin asked uncomfortably.

"No… it's alright," Cordelia said. "It's just, some of my knight-sisters called me that a lot too. They used to tease me all the time, calling me their 'little lady genius'."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to remind you about… about all of that," he stuttered.

"I know," Cordelia said, a warm smile returning. "Don't worry about it. By the way, I never had a chance to thank you for the other night, so… well, thank you."

"No problem. If you ever need someone to talk to, you know where you can find me," Robin said, with a smile of his own.

"That's kind of you, but that wouldn't be very fair to the rest of the Shepherds now would it? As I said, you are quite a valuable resource, too," Cordelia said, teasingly. "I might just take you up on it, though. See you around."

* * *

"This plan is going almost too well," Chrom said nervously. They had reached the desert and begun to cross without any Plegian interference. Cordelia and Sumia went scouting in opposite directions, and from their last report, the path was clear. "Doesn't Plegia at least have routine patrols? I would have expected some token resistance by now."

Robin frowned. "Gangrel must be lying in wait for us. He probably pulled back all the troops he needed. That, or they're lying in wait on one of the more obvious routes."

"Hold that thought," Frederick said, gesturing towards the sky. Robin and Chrom looked to see one of the Pegasus riders returning. "It's Sumia… but the next report isn't due for another twenty minutes."

"Trouble," Robin said, his frown deepening.

"Captain!" Sumia cried, as she touched down nearby.

"Plegians?" Chrom asked, trying to calm the woman, who was clearly out of breath. Sumia shook her head violently.

"I don't think so," she said, after catching her breath. "Well, I mean, they're probably Plegian... but they don't look like soldiers. There's a bunch of people, just over the hill ahead. They look like merchants, but they're chasing someone. And they're armed."

"Understood," Chrom said. "Let's go see what this is about."

Robin agreed. "It can't hurt. Maybe we can get some information about what lies ahead."

But when they reached the peak of the sand dunes, they realized it was most definitely going to hurt. Most of the marauders were dressed in dark, runed robes – completely inappropriate for desert travel.

"Those aren't merchants," Frederick muttered. "Those are Grimleal." The scattered cultists were spread out over a wide area, as if searching for something. There were maybe two dozen of them altogether, and at least six of them were obviously mages.

"Is that their patrol then?" Robin wondered. "They were clearly working with Plegia before when they attempted the assassination.

"I don't think so," Frederick replied. "During the first Plegian war, the Grimleal kept to the background when possible. Even in Plegia they are not entirely trusted, and for good reason."

"Because very few are foolish enough to place their faith in Grima, the fell dragon," Chrom said grimly.

"True," Frederick admitted. "Plegia tolerates the practice of dark magic as well, but only to a limited extent. The Grimleal, with their morbid fascination in sacrifice and death, oft go too far. But what can you expect from those insane enough to the one that the Grimleal reverently call the 'Wings of Despair'?"

Robin had read briefly about dark magic. Unlike conventional magic, often labeled elemental or Anima, dark magic was developed through the manipulation of life's energies. Practitioners were rumored to readily embrace sacrifice, ranging from simple blood rituals to animal sacrifices. The stories alluded to human sacrifices as well. "Okay, so if they're not with the Plegian army, then what are they doing here?"

"Looking for something, it appears," Chrom commented. The movement patterns definitely pointed to a search of some sort.

A sudden cry for help drew their attention, and the attention of all the Grimleal. Chrom, Frederick, and Robin watched as a small, lithe figure darted out from behind a sandstone pillar, with a larger figure in quick pursuit.

"Okay, I guess we know what they're searching for now," Robin commented dryly. "I suppose it's in our own best interests that the Grimleal don't find it."

"Let's go," Chrom concurred.

* * *

In only a few minutes, Robin had selected the most suitable Shepherds for the mission. Both Pegasus riders were present, as were Miriel and Ricken, whose robes would not weigh them down too heavily. Chrom and Frederick insisted that they be included, but with their heavier armor and with Frederick's horse, they could not travel quickly in the sand – Robin instructed them to try to reach the refugee as soon as possible.

Finally, Lon'qu, Vaike, and Robin accompanied the two mages. Their lighter clothing also allowed them to move more freely in the sand. Robin considered bringing Virion, but decided it best to leave someone in charge of the other Shepherds with the procession, in case the Grimleal staged a counterattack.

"Alright, let's move!" Robin directed. As planned, Sumia and Cordelia took off. Robin had spotted a couple nearby villages, and he and Chrom agreed the Plegian commoners should be warned of the trouble brewing. Frederick had argued against it, but Chrom knew that adding to the suffering could only lead to negative repercussions later.

The rest of the Shepherds present advanced. Robin led the more mobile group ahead, cutting past the refugee, who he now recognized as a young girl. Her dress was rather provocative, and her long hair an unusual yellow-green hue.

A fierce man was pursuing her. He was dressed differently from the Grimleal, instead wearing a simple leather brigandine over a light cloth shirt. He had a rugged, scarred face. Chrom would have to deal with that one, Robin decided, as he signaled for the Shepherds with him to cut off the approaching Grimleal.

As the battle was joined, Robin decided he didn't quite like battling other spell-casters. He almost felt a tinge of regret for all the foes he had blown away, as the Grimleal rained bursts of fire and streaks of dark clouds on him and his companions. He was silently thankful that the armored Shepherds had been left behind, as he knew the futility of trying to block fireballs with iron. More often than not, armor only amplified a warrior's vulnerability to magic.

At least the Grimleal proved rather inept. Their aim was erratic, and the small band of Shepherds was able to avoid most of the barrage. Certainly, none of them fought as effectively as the sorcerer that he and Chrom challenged back in Ylisstol.

Though they had already slain a handful of the cultists, Robin soon found his group surrounded. "This is going to be a long battle," he muttered, as he turned his attention to the pair of Grimleal archers. Those two would have to be eliminated for his plan to proceed safely.

* * *

"Get away!" the little girl screamed behind her, as she continued to flee from her pursuer.

"Wait, I say!" the man following her pleaded. "Why you no comprehending, wee one?" He spoke with a rough accent, his speech rather broken, and in a voice that befit his wild appearance.

"Why? My shoes are full of sand, and some big weirdo is trying to kill me!"

"Please, be keeping down with the voice," the man begged, lowering his own voice and looking around warily. "You give away position."

"You've already found me!" the girl protested, still running. But suddenly her path was cut off by a pair of robed men.

"Gotcha!" the first of the Grimleal said, drawing a sword. "Now you be a good girl, or I'll –"

The girl turned and tried to flee, but the man who was behind her drew his own sword. She cried out in terror, but the blade wasn't meant for her. Her original pursuer rushed by and swiftly beheaded the Grimleal. The other reached for a tome. "You traitor!" he cried, but a moment later, he, too, fell dead, a sword stabbing through his gut.

"Oy, do you see now?" the swordsman said, turning back to the girl and attempting to smile reassuringly. The scars made him look downright terrifying. "Gregor only wanting to help!"

Another Grimleal rushed towards them, this one behind the fleeing girl, but before he could get anywhere close, Chrom intercepted him. Falchion flashed through the air, and the man dropped to his knees, howling and clutching a bleeding stump where his hand used to be. Seeing that the fallen man would likely not be coherent for some time, Chrom turned to face Gregor. "Why are you all after this girl?" he demanded.

"All?" Gregor replied, confused. "What is this 'all'? Gregor is not one of 'all'! Look close! Maybe you not see from so far? Gregor have innocent baby-face!"

Chrom's face screwed up in confusion. A middle-aged man with numerous scars, a fierce expression, and burnt orange hair spiked up with some strange gel concoction could be described as many things, but baby-face was certainly not one of them.

Gregor wasn't stupid, and he could read Chrom's expression clearly enough. "Gah, never be minding! Gregor is not enemy! You must believe!"

Chrom groaned. He had a knack of running into rather unusual people. His gut told him they'd have a new Shepherd by the end of the day. "Alright, we'll sort you out later. Right now, just help us protect the girl."

"Y-you're going to help me?" aforementioned girl stammered, astonished.

"Of course, milady," Frederick said kindly, as he moved into position. Robin had already intercepted most of the Grimleal but a few had slipped past and were headed there way. "What is your name, little one?"

"Little one?" the girl fumed. But then her face brightened. "I'm Nowi. Thank you!"

* * *

Aware of the plan, Lon'qu and Vaike gave Robin the cover he needed, and Robin took the opportunity to dispose of the Grimleal archers. But now the three were in full retreat, pursued by three mages, whose robes had rendered them someone resistant to Robin's magic. Robin and Lon'qu had tried simply rushing the mages head-on, and managed to fell two of them, before the barrage forced them back. All three of the Shepherds were sporting numerous burns. The aphotic waves were slower and less accurate, but one had managed to strike Vaike's weapon arm, and Vaike had fallen back, his arm entirely numb despite bearing no sign of physical harm.

Worst of all, Robin had overexerted himself when he brought his sword to bear against the mage he had slain, and his wound had re-opened, blood flowing from his weapon arm again. "Not that I'm complaining," he muttered loudly. "But the timing of this is a little bit off."

"It was your plan," Lon'qu rumbled quietly.

"It was a stupid plan," Robin said with a morbid laugh. The Grimleal had just gotten in range to unleash another barrage though, when Sumia and Cordelia joined the fray. The panicked mages redirected their barrage, but most of the spells were poorly aimed and never came close to either of the women or their mounts. Those that did reach them had little effect – Pegasus were unique in that they were innately resistant to magic of all types. Even wind magic proved less effective against the Pegasi than against other fliers.

"There we go!" Vaike cheered. Lon'qu stepped forward, quickly cutting down the last of Grimleal warriors.

"Robin? Robin!" Sumia cried, landing nearby. "You're hurt!"

"I'm fine," Robin assured, hoping Cordelia hadn't noticed. But the observant woman was already glaring at him. "Are the villagers safe?" Robin asked Sumia, hastily changing the subject.

"There was a mage trying to burn down one of the villages but we took care of him," Sumia replied.

"Then we're done here," Robin said, still refusing to meet Cordelia's gaze. "Let's head back to the others."

* * *

As three Grimleal swordsmen approached, Chrom was reminded quite thoroughly of Robin's reasoning in initially wanting him away from the battle. He simply couldn't keep up with the more agile fighters on uneven footing. Behind him, Frederick was struggling as well. Gregor proved good to his word, though, and set upon the third swordsman with sudden ferocity that could've impressed the crowds in a Feroxi arena.

Frederick's opponent proved rather dimwitted, and continued trying to strike at the armored knight. But Chrom's target proved wiser, advancing and disengaging systematically. Too late, Chrom realized his opponent's cunning plan, as the Grimleal found an opening to rush past him.

"Augh!" Nowi cried out, as the swordsman managed to grab her arm and place a sword against her neck.

"Drop your weapons!" the Grimleal demanded. His two companions were already dead, and Frederick, Chrom, and Gregor glared at him menacingly, gripping their weapons tightly. "I said drop them!" the swordsman roared, when none of them reacted.

He was so focused on the three Shepherds that he didn't notice Nowi slowly reaching for his pocket. The girl slipped a small jewel from it, then, to Chrom's surprise, she smiled.

"Get away from me!" she roared suddenly, her voice growing far deeper. The swordsman, alarmed, tried to move his sword away – his master wanted the girl alive, after all. But a moment later, he regretted not killing the girl instead. As the girl roared, iridescent green scales spread suddenly, covering her body and clothes. The girl grew larger, wings sprouting from her back, her entire silhouette changing.

"What in the blazes? The girl is a dragon!" exclaimed Robin, having just arrived with the rest of the Shepherd's strike force.

"By the gods… a Manakete…" Chrom stuttered. "I never thought I'd see one…"

Nowi glared at the Grimleal, who dropped his weapon, stumbling away from the terrifying sight. The dragon bore little resemblance to the little girl that stood there before. A blast of ice shot forth from her gaping maw, striking the cultist and shattering, leaving him in a bloody heap. Then, the dragon shrank, reverting to the form of a little girl.

Nowi dropped the stone and began to cry. "This is just the worst day ever!" she yelled, her voice muffled by sobs.

The sight of an elegant and fearsome dragon changing into a small, crying girl was enough to shock all the Shepherds into silence. But Gregor seemed to take it all in stride, and patted the girl on the head gently. "Ho now, wee one! Do not make with the crying of tears. The evil people are now dead people. This is good, no?"

"I… I guess," Nowi admitted, drying her tears with her sleeve.

"Say, um… Gregor, was it?" Chrom began. The man turned, indicating the lord had his attention. "Would you mind looking after Nowi for us? I'm afraid we have urgent business, and must press on. You seem like a nice enough fellow, I guess."

"You guess?" Gregor said indignantly. Then he stopped, his demeanor turning jovial again. "Gregor is mercenary, yes? Maybe you hire Gregor instead."

"A mercenary?" Chrom asked, surprised. "So someone paid you to protect the girl?"

Gregor smiled sheepishly. "Err. Not so. Gregor just finished killing former employers. Is bad habit."

"You just killed your employers, and you want us to hire you?" Robin asked with a wince.

Gregor shrugged. "Former employers. They ask Gregor to capture little girl, yes? Gregor not accepting that. But Gregor find many bad employers. Gregor now have many angry former employers. Need steady income."

Chrom shrugged. "Sounds like your, uh, employers, had it coming. Tell me, Gregor. What would you say to helping us save an exalt and stopping a war?"

Frederick looked at Chrom incredulously, but Chrom ignored the knight, focusing on the sell sword. Gregor's face brightened considerably. "You come for exalt? Plegian king is cruel man. Gregor will gladly fight beside you. Is swell sword. Cost performance very high! Gregor not disappoint good employers."

"Alright then, you're hired," Chrom said casually.

"My lord!" Frederick protested.

"Frederick, Gregor seems like a good man, despite appearances," Robin said hesitantly. "He might be a mercenary, but he has morals too. We could use his help, and he could use ours."

"What you mean despite appearances?" Gregor asked, again adopting an indignant look. But he didn't protest further, and neither did Frederick.

"But… what about me, then?" Nowi protested. "I don't want be alone. And I WON'T go back on the auction block!"

"Auction block?" Sumia asked, horrified. "You've been sold? Like a… like a slave!?"

Nowi began crying again. "They're horrible people! They made me transform for them and made me do all sorts of stupid tricks!"

"And then bad men buy her, wanting to experiment," Gregor added helpfully. Nowi only sobbed more loudly.

"You're welcome to come with us," Chrom offered gently. The girl stopped crying at once. "I can't promise we're headed somewhere safe, but we will protect you as best we can."

"I can promise we don't sell young girls," Robin added, smiling.

"Actually, Robin, she might be small, but I doubt she's as young as you think," Frederick corrected. "Manaketes live a very long time."

"Really?" Sumia asked, turning to Nowi. "Um… if you don't mind me asking, how old are you?"

Nowi didn't seem to mind the question. "Oh, I don't know. A thousand… something? But look, no wrinkles!"

* * *

"I know, I know!" Robin protested loudly. The flapping wings of a Pegasus sounded behind him as he was walking down the procession, searching for Lissa. "I'm going right now!"

"Good," Sumia answered. Robin turned, surprised.

"Sumia? Oh, I thought… never mind," Robin began. "Do you need something?"

"Just for you to go find Lissa or Maribelle," Sumia replied with a shrug. "Cordelia told me about your arm."

Robin's brow furrowed. "Ah. I wonder why she didn't come find me herself. Not that I'm complaining; she looked ready to start lecturing me right in the middle of the battlefield earlier."

Sumia laughed lightly. "She can be a bit insecure. She said she didn't want anyone to get the wrong idea and start thinking you two were friends." Robin looked hurt. "She's not sure you'd want to be her friend," Sumia amended hastily.

Robin shrugged. "Well, that's rather odd, as I've been trying to make friends with everyone in camp. I think it grounds me a little. Reminds me that every single one of us is still human, you know?"

"Have you met Frederick or Lon'qu?" Sumia asked slyly. They both laughed. "You know, I still feel so sorry for Cordelia," Sumia added, but she paused, as Robin spotted Lissa and beckoned to the princess. As Lissa went to work with her new staff, Sumia went on. "It's like her dreams and her worst nightmares came together."

"Who?" Lissa asked curiously.

"Cordelia," Robin answered. "What do you mean, Sumia?"

Sumia smiled. "She used to have the biggest crush ever on Chrom, when we were growing up. It was almost funny, but she was so shy she couldn't even talk to him."

"She always babbled about how she was just a baseborn orphan and how Chrom would never want to talk to her," Lissa added.

Robin frowned. "That seems kind of silly. The Chrom I know doesn't really care who anyone's parents are."

"He didn't care back then either. How else do you think we ended up with Vaike?" Lissa joked, stashing the staff now that Robin's wound had closed again. "Robin, you should try to rest that arm for a while still," Lissa instructed.

"Yes, thank you," Robin said impatiently. "I think I've heard this particular lecture before."

"Well, you obviously didn't understand it then," Sumia added with a smirk.

Robin rolled his eyes and tried to change the subject. "You know, I guess I should've noticed it before. Tired as she was, Cordelia was definitely blushing when I made a joke about her and Chrom the other day. Now I feel kind of bad about it. Still, she should try at least talking to him."

He thanked Lissa again before heading off. The desert trek was nearly over. Miriel's calculations had proven just slightly optimistic, but it seemed like they would still arrive tomorrow afternoon, even slowing their pace to avoid detection. They'd have at least two days to plan the rescue.

Now they just had to figure a way out to free the exalt from under the noses of the entire Plegian army and King Gangrel himself.


	9. Chapter 7: The Edge of Disaster

**Chapter 7: The Edge of Disaster**

"This is an awful plan," Robin said nervously.

"Chin up," Flavia reassured. "You've predicted everything perfectly so far." Their spies had just reported in – the execution schedule remained unchanged. Most of the Plegian army was stationed at the Plegia-Ylisse border, at precisely the points Robin had chosen to avoid. Gangrel was quite disappointed that his soldiers brought back nothing, and the unfortunate messenger had allegedly paid a brutal price for delivering the bad news.

Still, that left nearly a thousand troops in the capital. Most of the Shepherds, and the two hundred Feroxi soldiers Khan Flavia had at her command, were hiding outside of the city. The rest of the Shepherds, led by Chrom, Robin, and the khans, had slipped into the city, waiting patiently for the opportune moment.

"Gangrel isn't exactly a brilliant strategist," Robin countered. "And he doesn't have to be. He has us outnumbered five-to-one, at least."

"Which is why we're not fighting them head-on, remember?" Frederick reminded. "Robin, your plan is flawless. It's better than any of us could have imagined when we set out from Regna Ferox."

"It will work. It has to," Chrom added.

It was rather odd. When they had left the Feroxi capital, Robin had promised them a miracle without stopping to consider it. He had spoken with confidence then, but now that the plan was in motion, and now that everyone else trusted fully in him and his plan, Robin was the one on the verge of panic. "Seriously, we're on the edge here. Even if everything goes absolutely perfectly, we're still going to be fighting for our lives against superior forces. We're quite literally a single misstep from disaster."

"Then there won't be any missteps," Flavia said with a shrug.

The premise of the plan was simple. Strike hard and fast. Throw Plegia into disarray. Rescue Emmeryn. Get out, and far, far, away. But with so many patrols, and ten thousand spectators expected to be in attendance, even a miracle might not be enough.

"Calm yourself, Robin," Frederick said, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Each and every one of us knew the risks. You've given us your best plan, and it's more than any of us could have hoped for. You've done your part, and now it's our turn."

Robin took a deep breath. "Thanks, Frederick. But my part's not over yet, remember?"

"Right," Chrom said, nodding appreciatively, as Robin fingered his new collection of tomes. He had a pair of new fire tomes at his disposal after the battle with the Grimleal. A tome of dark magic, as well, but none of the Shepherds knew how to use it.

"I think it's time," Khan Basilio said, nodding, peeking out of the wooden door. They were currently hidden in a local tavern, not far from the courtyard where the execution was to be held. "See you all when this is over," the west-khan promised, before setting off.

"Guess that's my cue too," the east-khan added. Flavia set off in the opposite direction.

Robin steeled his resolve once more, then nodded to indicate he was ready. Frederick gestured to the few Shepherds that accompanied them, and other than Frederick himself, they began making their way to the arena.

* * *

Less than a mile away, in the courtyard of Castle Plegia, a Plegian guard ushered the exalt roughly up a slope. Emmeryn obeyed without struggling, walking gracefully up the trail, doing her best to ignore the guard's rough prodding. Three other Plegians stood nearby, jeering. Unlike most conventional castles, Castle Plegia was built against a mountain, and cliffs jutted out over the courtyard.

The trail was longer than she had imagined, and at the end of it, Exalt Emmeryn found herself standing near the edge of a tall rock formation, jutting out over the valley below. An executioner's block, placed there earlier that morning, was clearly visible to the audience fifty feet below.

Thousands of Plegians, soldiers and civilians alike, were gathered silently below.

Slightly lower down the cliff, and about thirty feet away, another rock protrusion held a fancy podium. On it stood King Gangrel himself and his consort. Behind Aversa, a rather unusual Pegasus with onyx-colored skin and a silver mane waited, pawing the ground nervously.

King Gangrel quivered with anticipation. So the cowardly prince had decided to cut his losses. That was fine with him. His most hated enemy was about to die, publicly and in a humiliating manner, and his army would crush Ylisse and Ferox both into the ground soon after. He stepped forward eagerly, and cried out to his people below.

"Good citizens of Plegia! Mighty warriors of Plegia! I welcome each and every one of you to share in our glorious kingdom's victory today! Before you stands Exalt Emmeryn herself! For years, we have heard the heartless litany of Ylisse's exalt. The hypocrisy ends here!" Gangrel shouted. To his pleasure, the Plegian crowd began cheering excitedly.

King Gangrel turned to address Emmeryn directly, projecting his voice loudly, so all of his subjects could share in his accusations. "Less than two decades ago, Ylisse razed our villages to the ground! Only a few short years ago, Ylisse murdered our women and children! Surely, Exalt, you can't have expected us to forgive your crimes so easily? Where were you, and your thrice-damned peace, when our friends and family were burning at the stake? Where were you when our men were murdered on the battlefield, their families left to starve!?" he ranted. Emmeryn remained silent.

"Where were you when your own country needed you, when your own capital fell, defending you?" Gangrel spat.

"You speak of peace. You speak of harmony. And you speak nothing but lies!" Gangrel roared. The cheering from below grew louder than ever. "Have you nothing to say for yourself!?"

The audience quieted, hoping to hear the exalt's last words. Emmeryn did not disappoint.

"I came to you, King Gangrel," she reminded calmly. Though she spoke loudly, so that she may be heard, her tone carried the same serenity it always did. Even facing her own death, she remained unflappable. "I yielded to your men."

Gangrel turned red. "You lie!" he fumed. For nearly a minute, the crowd echoed his accusation, but the cries subsided quickly.

Emmeryn turned to the audience below, and addressed the Plegian people directly.

"Good people of Plegia. I know of my country's crimes against your people. I know of my own father's crimes against humanity itself. Never have I once denied them. I watched the flames of war spread across our continent, consuming lives, and leaving naught but ruin in their wake. I have faced anger from my own people, who were wronged as you were wronged. I have seen families torn asunder, dreams dashed, and futures stolen."

The audience remained silent, shocked that she would so easily admit guilt. King Gangrel rubbed his hands together eagerly, enjoying the sight of the hated exalt damning herself.

"Your blood is on our hands, as is our own. I have tried so very hard during my rule to make amends. I have done what I could for those scarred by the war, Ylissean and Plegian alike. But my penance was not sufficient," Emmeryn admitted. "When I gaze upon you, I see misery ingrained in your lives. I see rage kindled within your hearts. And you are right – Ylisse is to blame."

Still, the audience remained silent. King Gangrel grew nervous – where was the exalt going with this?

"Please. Hear my plea. The flames of rage cannot warm your hearts, but will burn you nonetheless. Your hate can not heal you, and can only fester within you. This war will not bring you peace!"

"Damn your peace!" King Gangrel interrupted angrily. But Emmeryn, and the audience below, ignored the king's protests.

"You've been fueled by misery for too long. I know well the crimes of my people, and I would gladly pay any price for their sins. But you must-"

"ENOUGH!" Gangrel roared. "Executioner, the time is upon us!"

Most of the crowd stayed silent. A few roared their approvals, but others cried out in protest. The executioner roughly forced the exalt to her knees, laying her neck upon the block, and lifted his executioner's axe.

And a single, perfectly placed arrow pierced his forehead.

The audience watched in stunned silence, as the dead executioner toppled backwards. Then they roared, a mixture of anger, surprise, and fear. Virion took the opportunity to flee, hiding his bow as best he could and blending in with the crowd.

Practically foaming at the mouth, King Gangrel was about to order the soldiers on the ground to hunt down the exalt, when a commotion caught his eye. Several Shepherds, led by Prince Chrom, were rushing towards the cliff, weapons drawn.

"Kill him! Kill his sister! Kill any who stand with him! Kill them all!" King Gangrel shouted, with a maniacal laugh. The prince had come after all.

* * *

At the center of the battle, Robin did his best to concentrate. Virion's shot had been perfect, and had bought them the time they needed. But that still left them with over a hundred soldiers nearby, and hundreds more in the city. The wyverns would be upon them shortly, too.

He reminded himself that the rest of the plan was out of his hands, for now. All he could do was fight as best he could – they had to keep the Mad King and his forces distracted. The chaos was a start, but if they died here, then the plan died with them.

Thankfully, most of the audience was simply fleeing. Even some of the soldiers were fleeing the chaos. Robin drew his sword as a pair of axe-toting fighters advanced towards him.

* * *

Not far away, Chrom found himself in a similar trance. All of the fears and doubts swirled around him, but he refused to let them in. He would fight these soldiers, and he would win. And all across the city, his Shepherds would face similar battles, and they, too, would win, because he trusted them with his life, and now he was trusting them with Emmeryn's too. He knew they would not disappoint him.

His friends from childhood. His loyal knights. His own younger sister. His amnesiac friend. A womanizing archer. The daughter of his sister's staunchest supporter. A rogue with a dark past, and a taste for sweets. One of the last surviving Pegasus knights. A down-on-his-luck mercenary with a strong moral compass. A Manakete.

He recounted his friends, his family, one at a time. He saw their faces in his mind's eye, and knew that each and every one of them would be fighting as hard as he was, fighting to the end, all for the same cause.

So he knew they would win. Never mind the odds. Never mind the danger. If destiny itself had decreed Emmeryn's death, they would challenge fate itself and emerge victorious.

* * *

As the battle drew on, most of the spectators had cleared to a safe distance, but many seemed unwilling to leave. To Chrom's surprise, someone from the crowd had joined the fray on his side, cutting down a Plegian mage who was leveling a spell at Chrom. The newcomer had long blond hair and a rather delicate, feminine face. A long, flowing white robe completed the ensemble, projecting a rather gentle air, a direct contrast to the wicked axe that had just decapitated the unfortunate spell caster.

"You there!" Chrom hailed. "Who are you?"

"Good heavens!" the newcomer answered, in a melodious, soft voice. "You are Prince Chrom, brother to the exalt!"

"You know me?" Chrom asked, surprised.

"All the Ylissean clergy do. Thank the gods for uniting us! I was starting to doubt my path, for the exalt appeared to be doomed, but the gods have blessed us with this wonderful opportunity. Pray, sire, let my axe serve you and your cause!"

"If you're here to save my sister, then you're a friend of mine," Chrom said, turning his attention back to the battle around him. "I would be honored to be joined by such a formidable woman of the cloth."

The newcomer looked slightly annoyed. "Umm… man, sire. Man of the cloth."

Chrom did a double take. "You're not a woman?" Even after looking over his newest ally again, Chrom still thought the priest was distinctly feminine.

"No, sire. Women become clerics. I am a priest. A war monk, to be specific. Libra, at your service."

* * *

The fracas was growing wilder by the minute. Robin, to his dismay, found himself separated from his allies. Once the battle began, he had felt strangely calm. None of the nervousness or tension from before remained.

He was surprised to see how far his own skills had come. He remembered a time not too long ago when engaging a single foe up close could leave him winded and wounded. Now, with a combination of Ylissean and Feroxi sword techniques, and with the intensive strength and stamina training he received from Frederick, he was cutting down foe after foe. He had suffered a few minor cuts and scrapes, but was otherwise unharmed.

But now, isolated from his allies, he thought he might have bitten off more than he could chew. Two soldiers closed in, lances ready, and a mage stood behind them, eyeing him curiously, as if she was trying to decide whether she'd be better off burning the tactician alive, or blasting him out of his boots with a bolt of lightning.

To his surprise though, the mage did neither. Instead, she pulled forth a dark tome, similar to the one they had taken from the Grimleal. Dark clouds surged forward, crippling one of the two lancers approaching Robin. The other turned in alarm, distracted, and Robin wasted no time in cutting him down.

"Thanks," Robin said uneasily, as the mage approached. "I think?"

"You're a curious one," The woman remarked. She had shoulder-length black hair, and wore heavy eye shadow, giving her a rather gothic look. A simple gold headband did little to lighten her appearance. She was dressed in rather unusual robes, both revealing and gloomy at the same time. They weren't the usual make for a Plegian mage, but they didn't resemble the robes of the Grimleal. Still, Robin had to be sure.

"You're not Grimleal, are you?" Robin asked. The woman looked annoyed. "Okay, I didn't think so."

"Tharja," she introduced nonchalantly.

"Umm… I'm Robin," the tactician introduced. He then turned, seeing a movement behind him, and a charging soldier burst into flames, dropping his axe and writhing in agony. "So, are you with the Plegians?"

"I was born in Plegia," Tharja corrected. "But I'm not going to invite death fighting a losing battle, over a cause I don't believe in."

"Okay," Robin said. "I guess you think we're winning, then. That's good, because that makes one of us."

Tharja giggled. Her laugh was a little creepy, Robin thought, but this wasn't the best time to be choosy about allies.

"Oh, I do like you," she murmured dreamily. With that, she casually flicked her wrists, sending a spiral of dark energy towards more of the approaching soldiers, dropping them where they stood.

"I guess we've adopted another one," Robin muttered darkly. This one could very well be the strangest one yet.

Suddenly, a shout from Sumia reminded him of the next task. The woman was flying towards him as fast as possible, and in a single smooth motion that the two had rehearsed several times, he climbed aboard Caeda, behind the brunette. A short distance away, Cordelia was helping Ricken aboard her mount in a similar manner.

As they lifted off, Robin was quite relieved. The timing was perfect – Sumia and Cordelia had spotted the incoming wyverns, and had collected their magical artillery exactly as planned. They were outnumbered four-to-one, which wasn't as bad as he had expected.

Arrows streaked from Virion's newest hiding spot, bringing down one of the wyverns just as they closed in. Sumia and Cordelia began swerving and swooping around the wyverns. The two had rehearsed these acrobatics thoroughly the past two days, with Robin and Ricken familiarizing themselves with the rhythm as well. Blasts of lightning and wind magic soared through the air, cutting down wyvern after wyvern.

"We might just pull this off after all," Robin admitted, as they surveyed the battlefield. Most of the Plegian soldiers were dead or fleeing, and the noise throughout the city indicated that the rest were certainly tied up in the chaos.

"Well, you're the best," Sumia said with a smile. "Don't tell me you actually doubted your own plan?"

"Every minute of it," Robin answered with a roguish grin. "But this isn't my work, Sumia. It was a team effort. Besides, we're not finished yet." With that, the two landed, waiting for the last piece to be put into motion. Cordelia and Ricken followed suit, landing beside them.

* * *

King Gangrel was furious. What were his men doing? They were being attacked by such an insignificant force. They must have outnumbered the invaders at least ten-to-one, if not more. How could they possibly be losing!?

"Kill the damned witch and be done with it!" he roared. Aversa relayed the signal, and half a dozen of Plegia's best marksmen emerged from their hiding place. Gangrel had heard tales of a single escaped Pegasus knight, and had half-expected her to fly in to rescue the exalt. But he had spotted that Pegasus knight, as well as the one accompanying the Shepherds at the border pass, dueling with his wyverns. Which meant there was no reason for those archers to stay hidden.

The archers drew within range and lifted their bows, but Robin was a step ahead. Upon seeing them emerge from their hiding place, he tossed a fireball straight up into the air.

Gangrel had missed the significant of the signal, but the three riders above had not. Captain Phila and her two knights, who had been captured along with Emmeryn, were riding free in the skies above, carefully staying out of the sun. Ferox's west-khan had freed them himself, and hastily explained their part in the plan, a part all three women were ready to play.

Upon seeing Robin's fireball, the three women urged their mounts into steep dives, and a quick barrage of javelins left all six marksmen dead.

"Exalt!" Captain Phila cried, turning and making for the cliff.

"Phila!?" Emmeryn called back, shocked. She had watched the battle in trepidation, half-hating the war being fought on her behalf, and half-wondering bitterly if this battle could possibly have a pleasant conclusion. Only now did she realize how well-prepared her brother and his Shepherds were. Only now did she dare to hope that her friends could all survive this sordid affair.

* * *

Gangrel let out an anguished cry. "Curse those Pegasus knights! I knew I should've gutted their mounts when I had the chance! That damn Ylissean tactician does NOT play fair!"

"Well, neither do we," Aversa remarked dryly. She gave a sultry little laugh. "Worry not, milord." She casually drew a flask from her belt, and popped the cork off. "I suppose some of the thunder has already been stolen, but this still ought to be quite a shocker," she said, giggling.

Streams of dark mist poured forth from the flask, flowing towards the battlefield. The Pegasus knights were momentarily distracted by the strange magic, and watched warily as it flew not at them, but below them.

All the Shepherds, all the Plegian spectators, the exalt, and even Gangrel himself stood perfectly still, transfixed upon the beams as they descended on the fallen remains of the six marksmen.

As the six corpses rose, their skin darkened to a violet, ashen hue, and their eyes glowing red, Captain Phila realized her predicament. The Shepherds cried out in horror, the exalt pleaded for her friend and Phila's loyal knights to flee, and Gangrel howled with glee.

And then it was over. A salvo of perfectly placed arrows brought down Captain Phila's two comrades immediately. Phila made a valiant attempt to avoid the projectiles, swerving around the stinging missiles and trying valiantly to reach her exalt, but an arrow from the second barrage took her through the heart. Even as she numbly realized her fate, a third barrage brought down her majestic and equally courageous steed.

"No!" Robin cried out in futile protest. They had come so far, each and every Shepherd and soldier carrying out their appointed tasks to perfection, all for naught. Six risen archers now stood, bows aimed at the exalt, and the rescue team lay dead, their corpses scattered at the base of the cliff.

"How… how could this have happened?" Chrom muttered in disbelief, unable to believe his own eyes.

Gangrel continued to laugh wildly, Aversa standing calmly behind him, a smug expression on her face. Finally, the Mad King spoke.

"Well, prince. I believe this is what they call a reversal of fortunes. Now, grovel before me! Plead! Beg for your worthless lives!" the Mad King demanded, before bursting into laughter once more.

"I'd give up my life before I'd beg it from you," Chrom replied bitterly, a hint of defiance returning.

"Hah. A fitting epitaph for your tombstone, perhaps? But I'm not entirely heartless, dear prince," Gangrel said, his smile growing wider, and crueler. "I see you've brought me the treasure I covet – the Fire Emblem you've so recklessly used as a shield. Lay down your blade and turn the Emblem over to me, and you may yet live to see the sun set."

Chrom froze. The Shepherds behind him remained silent, Robin struggling frantically to find a way out. The minute they surrendered the Emblem, they were all dead. If they stayed here, their lives, and the Emblem were forfeit. But there was no way to reach the exalt now, not with the six risen training their arrows on her. They had to get to Emmeryn, and they had to flee, but it was simply impossible.

King Gangrel was not a patient man. "Really now, my dear boy, you would dare ignore me? Then I shall count to three, and if you still have not answered, your sister becomes the world's largest quiver! One… two…"

"Alright!" Chrom cried. "Alright, Gangrel, you win. Everyone –"

"No."

All eyes turned to Exalt Emmeryn. She had not spoken loudly, but as always, her voice instantly drew everyone's attention.

"Look around you," she demanded quietly. "The blood spilled and the lives ended. This is what awaits you down this road. This is what awaits Plegia, Ylisse, and Ferox. This is what hatred and anger lead to. Free yourself from this cycle of pain and vengeance, I implore you. Free yourself and your people from the shackles of war."

The audience remained silent. Robin had a sinking feeling in his heart, but he could not speak it aloud. He had to be wrong.

Emmeryn shook her head. "The price of this freedom is steep, but it is one I'm willing to pay, Plegians. On behalf of not just my people, but yours as well. If you demand blood, then you shall have it, willingly given. Savor it as you must, and when the emptiness returns, remember my words – just as my death will not bring your heart's desire, the war can only lead you towards greater suffering."

"No!" Chrom cried out. "Emm, don't!"

But it was too late. With a graceful bow, the exalt stepped forward into thin air, plummeting towards the hard rock before, as she whispered an unheard apology to her siblings, hating herself for having to do this in front of them. As she fell, her body struck against the side of the uneven cliff, throwing her out further from the cliff face.

The exalt hit the ground with a sickening splatter. Blood pooled around her flayed body and elegant clothing. Silence reigned once more.

Exalt Emmeryn was dead.

* * *

The Shepherds stared at their leader. To come this far and to fail was simply beyond belief. Chrom, in turn, couldn't tear his gaze from the gruesome sight ahead. For several long heartbeats, he simply could not comprehend the truth: that he had lost and that his beloved sister was dead.

Beside him, Lissa sniffled. That broke the spell. Chrom roared in denial, refusing to believe they could have come so far and still failed. Refusing to believe his sister was dead.

His anguished cries were music to Gangrel's ears, who burst out laughing cruelly. The egotistical monarch didn't even notice the disgusted looks from his own people, so ecstatic was he, reveling in the misery of his foes. "How disgustingly noble," he mocked. "And so lovely a fall! And here was I, thinking death to be an ugly thing. So ends Emmeryn, Ylisse's most exalted! Perhaps we shall display her beautiful corpse to remember this wonderful day!"

"Gangrel!" Chrom howled. With that, he rushed forward, not caring that Gangrel nearly a hundred paces away and up a cliff, not caring that the archers still stood ready to intercept him.

"No!" Robin cried, grasping Chrom's arm desperately. "Chrom!"

Without hesitation, Chrom turned, throwing his tactician aside. But before he could charge onward, a much stronger hand clasped his arm and wrenched him back.

"No, boy!" Khan Basilio barked, appearing at last. "The escape route is secured! We must flee!"

"But," Chrom began to protest, but Basilio cut him off.

"You have to run. Now!" Basilio turned to Robin. "Robin, go!"

Robin nodded, trembling all the while, and raced towards the planned escape route. The wagons Basilio had secured were waiting. Basilio himself dragged Chrom along, the grief-struck lord still struggling. But Chrom's strength was spent, and Basilio remained right behind them. As they climbed aboard, Robin noted Marth standing nearby, staring at the fallen exalt in shock, muttering to herself.

The risen rushed forward in pursuit but the horse-drawn wagons outpaced them easily, the Shepherds making for the breach in the city defenses that Flavia's warriors and the Shepherd's cavalry created. They emerged from the city soon after, fleeing as fast as they could, with the Plegians in pursuit.

Seeing Marth again reminded Robin of the dire prophecies. Exalt Emmeryn was dead. The end of the war was nowhere in sight. They had stepped over the edge of disaster, and could very well have propelled themselves towards, as Marth had called it, the end of all mankind.

* * *

The plan was to flee to the Midmire swamp, several miles from the Plegia capital. A Feroxi spy had secured fresh horses for them, and they were to travel through the swamp, then flee back to Ferox. But the swamp was several hours away, and the horses could not keep up their current pace that long.

Just as the night after Breakneck pass, the Shepherds remained quiet. Many of the brave Feroxi warriors had perished in battle. Many Shepherds had come dangerously close to death, and several were sporting brutal wounds, freshly healed, but still sore. Every one of them was exhausted. And they had absolutely nothing to show for their efforts, save for their own lives. As the horses trudged along the path, the Shepherds who did dare to speak spoke softly, doing their best not to disturb each other, but trying desperately to leave some of the pain behind.

* * *

Maribelle did not feel like speaking at the moment. Her heart broke when she saw Emmeryn fall. The woman had been practically a sister to her. Her heart shattered again, when she saw Lissa's expression. The pain in her own heart gave way to guilt, as she realized whatever she felt, two of her dearest friends were feeling ten-fold or more. She couldn't face Lissa right now, and if she couldn't talk to her best friend, who could she talk to?

"Twinkles," an unfamiliar voice greeted her softly. She turned, and saw possibly the last person she ever wanted to see, let alone now. She had been expecting this confrontation eventually, but could the fool truly believe this to be the time for it?

"Get lost," Maribelle answered abruptly. Gaius blinked, but did not move. Maribelle groaned. "You imbecile! In the best of times, your leering visage disturbs be enough, but you dare approach me now?" she whispered furiously.

When Gaius didn't answer, all her anger seemed to well up and explode. "This was your handiwork, you arrogant bastard! You tried to kill her! You let the assassins in, drove her from Ylisstol. You allowed her to be captured, you caused her death!" Maribelle sputtered angrily. "How dare you show your face around here? Around any of us!"

Maribelle knew it was nonsense. She knew Gaius had been deceived, knew that Gaius had been helping them, and had likely saved Emmeryn's life once. But at that precise moment, none of that mattered. She was angry, and Gaius had earned that anger.

"Twinkles… Maribelle. I'm sorry," Gaius apologized weakly, tears coming to his own eyes. With a deep sign, he fumbled in his pockets and pulled forth a couple small sweets. He offered them to Maribelle, who continued to glare at him wickedly.

"I'm not proud of what I've done," Gaius admitted sadly. He popped one of the candies in his mouth. "My life hasn't been easy, but that's no excuse. I did play a part in this, even unwillingly. If there was anything I could do, I would've done it, but there wasn't. If there's anything I can do now, anything to help set things right, I would do it in a heartbeat. Please, Twinkles. I know you hate me, I know you don't trust me, but I'm one of you now, for better or for worse. Please believe me."

Maribelle felt herself shaking with anger. "And why, Gaius, would I do such a foolish thing as that? Why should I believe the man who dared to pillage the royal treasury not once, but twice? Why should I believe the man who dared to frame an innocent man for his crimes?" Her voice dropped another tone, and grew viciously brittle. "You broke into the treasury. You blamed my father, and you let him face the court for your crimes. He was nearly executed for your misdoings, and you dare ask me to believe in anything you say!?"

Without waiting for an answer, Maribelle stormed away. In a strange way, it made her feel a little better about the whole thing, to have someone she could be rightfully angry with.

Gaius only watched her leave mournfully. "I guess she's right," he said with a sigh. "Why _should_ anyone give me another chance? The gods know I haven't exactly earned it…"

* * *

"So much for becoming a hero," Stahl mumbled. He was sitting with Sully and Virion.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sully barked. "The war's not finished, and neither are we."

"We were supposed to be unstoppable," Stahl moaned. "All that training. All that practice. And for what? Look at me, Sully. You were the one called me a wimp once, remember? And you were right. I might've been strong, but I gave up too easily. And I learned better. And look where that got us."

Sully rolled her eyes. "Damn it, Stahl, you didn't listen to a word I said did you? It's all about attitude. When I called you a wimp before, I meant it. Because even though you were stronger than me, you were giving up. You only started winning when you really put your heart into it."

Stahl looked at her dejectedly. "That's just it, Sully. Was my heart not into it back there? Did I fall short, right when Chrom needed us most? If it's all about attitude, then I'm still the same old Stahl. Things get rough and I fall apart."

"No. You gave it your all back there. Gods know we all did. And when all the tears are done, we're going back there to kick Gangrel's butt," Sully insisted. "Because you're not going to fall apart. You and I and every other Shepherd. We lost this round, Stahl, but we can't give up now. You think all the knights in the stories had perfect lives? Won every battle? Course they didn't. Maybe the stories don't remember, but I bet they had their bad days too."

"'Bad' is a bit of an understatement," Stahl said thoughtfully. "But you know, you're right, Sully."

"Damn right I am," Sully answered. She turned her attention to their strangely silent companion. "You okay, Ruffles?"

"I am simply divine, milady," Virion answered absentmindedly. His thoughts went to the home he had abandoned. He had considered his own decisions noble, a silent sacrifice made to the friends he sought to protect. But Sully's words struck a chord, deep down. Maybe he had given up too soon. Maybe it was all about attitude, and a willingness to fight until your very last breath.

* * *

Robin sat alone on the last cart. He watched as the others comforted each other quietly, as Chrom and Lissa, alone together on the front-most cart, wept silent tears.

He remembered when Chrom had placed his trust in him. How even Frederick, with his suspicions, agreed to train him. He remembered when he promised to save Emmeryn.

He remembered watching Emmeryn plummet from her perch, crashing brutally against the cliff, before finally coming to a rest in a bloody heap.

He had failed the Shepherds today. He had failed Emmeryn. And he had failed Chrom. Numbly, he wondered how their lives would've been if Chrom had never found him. He wanted to believe he had made a difference. He wanted to believe that his strategies saved lives, that his strength protected his friends from harm. But the only thing he knew for certain was that in their moment of need, he had faltered.

"How can I even face them again?" he wondered dully. "How can I even look Chrom in the eyes, without reminding him that I let his sister die?"

"You should be resting." Robin turned to see that Cordelia had climbed aboard the cart. He turned his vacant stare to her, and she met his gaze steadily, giving him a moment to collect his thoughts.

"I failed you all," Robin whispered hoarsely, looking away. He saw the compassion in her eyes, but it only stung his heart further. "I couldn't do it."

"It's not your fault," Cordelia assured. "No one can rightfully blame you, Robin."

"Of course it's my fault! I'm the tactician, and I just… just wasn't good enough!" Robin croaked. The defeated tactician broke at last, and tears formed rapidly in his dark eyes, streaming down his face as the price of his failure weighed on him, unabated.

"You did what you could, Robin." She flashed him a sad, strained smile. "I know it's difficult," she added. "But you have to stay strong. You have to keep fighting, or else all the suffering, and all the pain, would have been for nothing."

The words rang familiar, but Robin couldn't quite place them. Was it something Chrom had said to him before, perhaps?

"A fellow Shepherd said that to me once," Cordelia explained. "He came to me one night, when I was tired and dejected, blaming myself for what happened to my knight-sisters. And he reminded me that I did everything I could, and that was all anyone could have asked from me. He reminded me that no matter how awful it felt, I needed to keep moving forward."

Now Robin remembered. Those had been his own words to her, that night by the river. Robin sighed. It stemmed the tears somewhat, but the words rang as hollow to him now as they did that night. "Remind me not to try to comfort someone ever again," Robin said dryly. "My advice is terrible."

Cordelia laughed lightly at that remark. "It worked for me didn't it?"

Robin mulled the thought over for a moment. Now that he considered it carefully, he found that the words didn't seem so devoid of meaning, coming from her. In fact, perhaps the words were irrelevant to begin with. What really mattered was that no matter how dark the world seemed at that moment, he had friends who cared for him and would support him. Even Cordelia, who he had met so recently and barely knew, could see when he was hurting, and was willing to stand by him now. And the war was far from over; his friends could very well be depending on him again in the near future, despite his failure today.

The pain of loss hadn't diminished, but it was hardly time for self-pity, Robin realized. "Thank you, Cordelia," he finally said, with an appreciative nod. Cordelia smiled as she heard the change in tone, and for the first time, Robin noticed a faint shadow of unease in her expression. He recalled his conversation with Sumia a few days ago. "By the way, Sumia and I talked a bit the other day… you know, back in the desert when you asked her to make sure I actually got my arm taken care of."

"What did she say?" Cordelia asked, looking slightly alarmed.

"Nothing much really," Robin said with a shrug. "She did mention you were nervous about making new friends with the Shepherds. I know you aren't exactly alone here, since you, Lissa, Maribelle, and Sumia all grew up together. But for what it's worth, I've considered you one of us since the night we met, and I think everyone else would say the same."

Cordelia visibly relaxed. "Oh. Well, I wasn't really nervous… I just sort of got used to not having many friends near me. Since I was the youngest recruit in my division, and everyone else was a veteran, I just felt a little bit out of place."

Robin found himself smiling, as he finally managed to steer his thoughts away from Emmeryn and their impending challenges. "Then you've come to the right place. The Shepherds are full of people who'd be out of place anywhere else. I mean, where else are you going to find a tactician with no memories?"

"You really don't remember anything?" Cordelia asked, curiously, a look of sympathy on her face.

"It's alright. It's just part of who I am now," Robin said. "At first I kept wondering who I was. In a way, our memories define us. But then I realized, even if I lost my old memories, I still have time to create new ones. What really matters isn't who I was. It's who I now choose to be."

"That's a good way to look at it," Cordelia agreed. The two sat comfortably in silence for a while, both sorting through their own thoughts.

"Well, I should let you get some rest," Cordelia said, hopping down from the cart. "By the way, remember what you said before? About how if I ever needed someone to talk to, that you'd be willing to listen?"

Robin nodded. "Of course."

"Well. The same goes for you, too. If you ever want to talk to someone, you know where to find me," she offered.


	10. Chapter 8: The Price of Freedom

**Chapter 8: The Price of Freedom**

"We're nearly there," Khan Basilio announced. Chrom and Lissa nodded silently. When it became obvious that Chrom wasn't going to go notify the others personally, the khan gave a great harrumph, before setting off to spread the news himself.

A few minutes later, Robin joined Chrom and Lissa. "Sumia and Cordelia our scouting ahead. If all goes well, we should be free of Plegia soon," Robin said, rather hesitantly. He had managed to convince himself that he had done everything he could, and Cordelia had assured him that the Shepherds knew it as well. But seeing Chrom so utterly defeated still gnawed at Robin's heart, and the shame of failure remained.

"I'm sorry, Chrom," Robin apologized. He meant to say more, but to his surprise, Chrom spoke, the prince's first words since leaving the capital.

"It's not your fault, Robin," Chrom said hoarsely. "You know that, right? You have nothing to apologize for."

Robin frowned. "I wish I could have done more… I couldn't keep my promise to you, after all."

But Chrom had returned to his silent stupor. Robin eyed his friend uncomfortably, wondering if there was anything at all he could say. Despite Chrom's words, the guilt still weighed heavily upon Robin.

"Plegians!" Cordelia's voice rang out from above, interrupting his thoughts. Robin looked up in time to see Sumia and Cordelia returning together.

"They are waiting for us in the swamp," Sumia explained hastily, after the two women landed.

"Damn it," Basilio swore, having returned just in time to see the two riders return. "I knew it couldn't be that easy. Well, we don't have a choice now. We fight our way through!"

* * *

Robin surveyed the battlefield before them. There was a ravine between them and the rendezvous point. The Plegians must have guessed their plan, or at least, determined their path would probably lead through this ravine, and the soldiers were spread throughout the pass. It wasn't a large force, probably less than forty soldiers in total. Unfortunately, the Feroxi soldiers had been sent ahead earlier with Flavia to assist in preparing the caravan. They were cut off, now, so the Shepherds were outnumbered.

The Plegians appeared to have spotted them, but had taken no action so far. It seemed as if they were waiting for something. Their leader was wearing ornate and highly decorated pauldrons. "Great," Robin muttered darkly. It appeared the general of the Plegian army had come to greet them personally.

"I don't think we have any choice," Basilio said quietly. "We wait here and more reinforcements could show up any minute."

Robin nodded, but his mind was whirling. Something wasn't adding up. Why would the general be here, personally, with such a small force? Back in the capital, they had confirmed that Gangrel committed most of his troops to the border. The general must have been stationed along with them. There should be hundreds, if not thousands of troops here.

"I think they may be hoping to parley," Robin remarked. "This isn't right. Their plan makes no sense whatsoever." As Robin spoke his thoughts aloud, he knew them to be true. Even though they were outnumbered, the Shepherds had proven themselves a far stronger force than their numbers would normally imply. The Plegians had to know that in the numbers they presented, the common soldiers would be outmatched.

"Like that matters," Basilio grumbled. "We can't trust these Plegian dogs."

"I guess you're right," Robin said with a frown. "If they want to talk, they'll just have to do so with our full force present."

* * *

The Plegians drew their weapons, but did not advance, as the Shepherds closed in. Instead, most of the soldiers turned to watch the general nervously.

The general was a tall, broad-shouldered man. His shaved head sported several scars, and a short, brown beard, trimmed evenly at the bottom. His bracers and leggings were heavily patched, and his armor consisted of a pair of leather straps, forming a cross across his chest, and sporting a bright silver buckle. All in all, he looked both intimidating and commanding, a grizzled war veteran who had earned his laurels through years of service.

"Halt," the general commanded quietly.

The Shepherds tensed, some of them reaching for their weapons. The Plegians raised their own weapons higher, exchanging nervous glances.

"I am General Mustafa, in the service of Plegia. By the order of King Gangrel, you are not to leave Plegia alive," the general explained.

Chrom glared at General Mustafa angrily, and flashed a signal to his allies. In an instant, every Shepherd had drawn his or her weapon. Several of the Plegians fell back, alarmed, but Mustafa seemed unconcerned. "If you would stand in our way, then we will have to cut you down," Chrom warned. "This is the last warning I will offer you or your men."

"The meaning of Exalt Emmeryn's sacrifice was not lost upon me or my men, Prince Chrom," Mustafa said, shaking his head.

"Don't speak her name!" Chrom cried angrily.

Mustafa remained calm. "If you wish to keep your lives, then you must win them from me." But then, to Chrom's surprise, Mustafa flashed a signal to his own men, and the Plegians backed down.

"My men will bear witness," Mustafa said with a deep sigh, as he stepped forward alone.

"General, wait!" one of the Plegian soldiers cried, stepping forward. But the general continued advancing alone.

"What is the meaning of this?" Chrom demanded uneasily. But the general continued his approach, until finally, he could speak without raising his voice, and still be heard.

"I cannot defy the king, lad," the old general admitted. "There is no justice to be had here, but should I betray him now, the punishment for my sins shall fall upon my wife and child.

"Defeat me, and you and your men are free," Mustafa declared loudly. "My men will bear witness, but are under orders to retreat if I fall." Then, more quietly, he added, "Prince Chrom, please, spare my men."

With that, the general drew his axe and attacked. But the older man was simply no match for the skilled prince. The Shepherds moved to help, but soon realized there was no need – even fighting his hardest, Mustafa could not have beaten Chrom, and it was clear Mustafa's heart wasn't into the battle.

Chrom parried the clumsy blows easily, unsure of how to proceed. Finally, he settled for disarming Mustafa, and hooked Falchion underneath the blade of Mustafa's axe. A quick sweep sent the weapon flying from Mustafa's grasp.

"Finish it," the fallen general growled, as he collapsed, having overbalanced in a failed attempt to retain his grip on his weapon. Chrom hesitated. "For my family. Please," the general begged. Chrom still did not move.

Finally, the general rushed to his axe, reclaimed the weapon, and charged headlong at Chrom, the weapon held high. Chrom reacted instinctively, and a moment later, Falchion gleamed red, and the Plegian general fell to his knees, blood pouring from his chest.

Chrom stepped back in shock, but the old general merely smiled. "Well done, Ylisseans," the general coughed. And with his last breath, he uttered one final plea. "Prince Chrom… please, free my family from this atrocity. Free my people."

All around them, the Plegian soldiers began to retreat, their own faces glistening with tears. "That was wrong… that was all wrong," Chrom muttered, as he watched them back off. None of the Shepherds argued. The mock battle was only another cruel fate dictated by the Mad King. Another noble life thrown away in an attempt to appease the insatiable hatred of King Gangrel.

"General Mustafa made his choice, boy," Basilio reminded, after several long moments. "It's time to go."

The sense of urgency that had followed the Shepherds from Plegia was gone. The Shepherds trudged through the ravine, as the general's last words echoed through their thoughts. After a short hike, they were greeted by a handful of Feroxi soldiers, and a young woman with long, braided pink hair, clothed in a rather revealing silk shift.

"Khan Basilio!" the young woman greeted, seeming a bit nervous.

"I'm sorry we kept you waiting," Basilio apologized, a rather strange sight to all those who knew Basilio. The west-khan turned to Robin and Chrom, who were leading the Shepherd's procession.

"Chrom, Robin. Meet Olivia. She'll be smuggling us out of here."

"Hurry," Olivia urged. "The path is clear for now but we must be on our way quickly!"

"Right. Pile in, you lot! Let's get out of this Plegian hellhole!" Basilio barked.

* * *

Two days later, the Shepherds crossed back into Ylisse. Feroxi messengers arrived, announcing that Plegia had kept only a token force occupying Ylisstol, which proved to be no match for the Feroxi army. Ylisstol had been reclaimed, but the bulk of Plegia's army remained intact, safely within their own borders. They stopped briefly in a small village for some supplies, but three days later, the Shepherds returned to Ylisstol.

The city had changed dramatically, Robin noticed. The city had been seized twice, first by the Plegians, and then again by the Feroxi. Both battles had been extremely one-sided, and for the most part, the citizens were unharmed, with most of the city remaining intact. Still, no longer did the city seem to be blissfully unaware of the threat looming overhead. More than a few of the civilians watching their return spoke quietly to one another of the fate of their exalt.

* * *

Chrom alone had stayed behind after a difficult meeting. For now, they were simply mapping out their knowledge of the situation. Emmeryn, Phila, and the hierarch was gone, replaced by Flavia, who provided as much information as she could relating to the various skirmishes the Feroxi had encountered. Frederick, too, was absent, having been dispatched to rally whatever Ylissean forces he could.

Based on what information they had, Plegia still held the larger army, but Robin and Flavia were confident that the Feroxi army was stronger. Ylisse would have a small conscripted force of its own before long. But already, resources were strained around the kingdom. Chrom paced across the room restlessly, mentally replaying the meeting over and over.

"Captain?" Sumia asked in a small voice, as she approached Chrom in the throne room. Castle Ylisse didn't really have any other formal conference rooms, so their councils were always held in the throne room.

"Hello Sumia," Chrom said quietly.

"How are you feeling?" the woman asked, concerned. Suddenly, she felt rather embarrassed. "Sorry, that was a dumb question," she apologized.

"I'm alright, Sumia. I'll pull through," Chrom said. The two sat in silence for several seconds, both of them struggling with their thoughts. After nearly a minute, Chrom broke the silence. "I just felt… so powerless."

"You're not alone," Sumia remarked sadly. "Everyone's been thinking the same thing. Everyone is wondering what we could have done differently."

Chrom shook his head. "You all did your best. Everyone did."

"Including you," Sumia added. "It wasn't your fault either, Chrom. The only person to blame is King Gangrel."

A shadow crossed Chrom's face when she spoke that name aloud. "I wanted to kill him," Chrom admitted. "I still do. I want him to pay for what he's done."

"I don't think anyone would argue with that," Sumia commented.

"Emmeryn would," Chrom answered, with another sigh. "What am I fighting for, Sumia?"

"What do you want to fight for?" Sumia asked gently. "What is most important to you? Is it King Gangrel? Or Lady Emmeryn?"

Chrom looked at her, confused. "What kind of question is that?"

"Are you fighting to punish Gangrel for what he did to us? To Lady Emmeryn? If so, not a single Shepherd would hold you back. We'd all want to help," Sumia admitted. "Or are you fighting for the same peace Emmeryn died for? Because as long as King Gangrel lives, he will never allow us to have our peace. King Gangrel will have to be stopped."

Chrom was about to remark that both led to the same conclusion. But then, he remembered Emmeryn's final words. He remembered General Mustafa's final plea. He saw again the looks of misery on the Plegian soldiers, and the suffering of his own Shepherds. True – he would have to face Gangrel either way. But the reason did matter, because this wasn't about Gangrel anymore. The war had to be about him, his future, and the future of both Ylisse and Plegia.

"Thank you, Sumia," Chrom said. "I think I owe all the Shepherds an apology."

The brunette looked surprised. "You don't owe us anything!" Sumia protested.

Chrom only laughed, his first real laugh in days. "Good night, Sumia."

* * *

The next morning, Chrom summoned every Shepherd and the khans of Ferox to the throne room. He was pacing nervously, showing more energy than he had ever since Emmeryn's fall, but still seemed rather apprehensive.

Robin was the first to arrive. Sensing that Chrom wasn't quite ready to speak, he simply leaned against one of the carved pillars and waited patiently. Robin had a suspicious feeling he knew why Chrom was pacing back and forth, rather than sitting in his rightful throne. Chrom may be ready to move forward with the war, and Ylisse needed Chrom to lead her forward, but much like Robin himself, Chrom was still struggling with his own guilt.

The two of them watched as the other Shepherds, and the two khans, filtered into the room. Within the hour, they were all gathered, silently waiting for their leader to speak.

As Chrom turned to face them, they could see he was still gathering his thoughts, trying to decide how he should begin. After taking a deep breath though, he took the plunge.

"Thank you all for being there for me in Plegia. Thank you all for helping me try to save my sister, for trying to help me save our exalt. I know we fell short, but each and every one of us tried our hardest, and I don't want to ever hear any of you blaming yourselves," he began, turning and meeting the gaze of each person in the room, all of who gave him their full attention.

"Emmeryn died for me," Chrom admitted. "I call myself the commander, but she recognized the truth before I did. She made her decision weeks ago, when she chose to surrender herself to buy us time to reach our Feroxi allies. I could see the hope in her expression when she saw us, and I could see her sorrow when she realized we had failed. I saw it all, but only now do I understand it.

"Emmeryn knew the battle was lost, but she also knew we would not surrender. She met her fate on her own terms that day, standing for what she believed in to the last breath. Her sacrifice reminded everyone watching of our purpose. And though it has taken some time for the words to settle in my heart, she was right.

"I have no choice now. My duty is to you, and to the Ylissean people. I will have to accept the responsibilities of my sister's throne and title. Most of all, I will have to embrace her purpose as my own. This isn't about the Mad King and his crimes anymore. This is about creating a better future for all. If King Gangrel stands in our way, we will cut him down, not out of hatred, but out of necessity." As Chrom made that proclamation, he noticed several looks of surprise from the Shepherds. The words rang discordant in his own mind, clashing with his own emotions, but in his heart he knew they were true.

"I may have disappointed you before. In the Plegian capital, I was weak. I was powerless, held captive by own fears and doubts. If it were not for Emmeryn's sacrifice, I may very well have led you all to your deaths that day. But I know better now. And so I offer you all my sincerest apology, and I ask you to place your faith in me one more time. I might never find the strength that my sister held, and so I ask you to lend me yours. Together, we may yet achieve the future Emmeryn sought for us," Chrom finished.

The Shepherds looked at one another in surprise, wondering who should be the first to speak, for of course, not a single man or woman in the room had seriously considered abandoning the cause, unless it was in doubt of his or her own worthiness. After several agonizing seconds of silence, Robin stepped forward, and walked up to Chrom, his footsteps echoing loudly in the otherwise silent throne room. As he did, Chrom met his gaze.

"Chrom, listen to me," Robin began. "I was powerless once, too, remember? I was alone. It was you and the Shepherds that gave my life meaning. Look around, Chrom, and see all the good that you have already done. You've always had our trust. And though I doubt any of us will ever find even half the strength Emmeryn had, together, we may achieve something more. Together, we can make her dreams come true."

Chrom shook his head. "And what if I can't?" he asked. "What if I'm not worthy of her ideals? What if I only end up falling, and dragging you all with me?"

"If you aren't worthy, you'll keep at it until you are. If you fall, we'll catch you. And if we all fall together, then we'll pull each other back up," Robin answered mildly. "We're with you, Chrom."

"Until the end," Frederick added determinedly. "I swear to you, milord, I shall die before any more exalted blood is spilled!"

Following Frederick and Robin's lead, each of the Shepherd's stepped forth, offering their own words of support. Even the usually sullen Lon'qu stepped forward with a terse assurance of Chrom's worthiness. Robin was surprised to see that even Cordelia stepped forward with a few words of assurance; to his knowledge, Cordelia had never found the courage to speak with Chrom outside of delivering her reports. Perhaps Sumia had talked some sense into her best friend, after all, Robin thought with a smile.

Chrom raised his hands, trying to quell the sudden wave of emotional words and promises of fealty.

"Thank you all. Truly. Your acceptance has reassured me of our path, and of my choice. I will not falter again, and together, we will defeat King Gangrel and end this war."

"Right!" Flavia added, her first words since entering the chamber. "The whole of the Feroxi army is yours. You have our trust, too, Chrom."

"Hah!" Basilio laughed. "Count me in!"

"Me too!" Olivia said suddenly, making her presence known for the first time. Suddenly, she blushed, clasping both hands to her lips. When Chrom gestured for her to continue, she smiled shyly. "I serve Khan Basilio, and if he stands with you, then I'd like to stand by you too. Although… all I can do is dance, and I'm not so skilled at that if we're being honest…" she mumbled nervously.

"She's too modest!" Basilio crowed, with another laugh. "Olivia's a Feroxi treasure, the finest dancer I've ever had the pleasure of meeting. I swear, there's even some sort of magic about her that inspires soldiers to work twice as hard! You'd do well to bring her along, Commander."

Chrom nodded, but then realized the label Basilio had just laid upon him. "Commander?" Chrom asked, surprised. "What happened to 'boy'?"

Basilio smiled. "You've earned your way up from that name, I think. You have my every confidence. Maybe you're doubting yourself now, but you're a fine leader already, and I suspect you'll go even farther before this is through."

"Thank you, Basilio," Chrom said gratefully. He turned to the Shepherds. "Thank you all, again. When our course is set, I'll let you all know. Until then, please, get some rest." The Shepherds nodded and began filing out of the room, until only Robin remained.

"That goes for you, too, Robin," Chrom added with a smile, not surprised to see his tactician had remained behind.

"Strategists don't rest with war on the horizon," Robin replied casually. "Let's get started."

* * *

The death of Captain Phila had proven to be a difficult blow, overshadowed by the loss of Emmeryn, but tragic and challenging nonetheless. Along with the two Pegasus knights with her, they were the last of Ylisse's royal Pegasus knights, save for Cordelia, who was now a Shepherd. Even Sumia had never been formally trained. Several of the Pegasi escaped, and some of the well-trained and loyal creatures returning to Ylisstol. Others had been rescued by the Feroxi.

Robin knew he'd likely need Sumia and Cordelia for the coming battles – air support had proven invaluable to their campaign thus far. With that in mind, he insisted that the two be allowed to remain in Ylisstol. Some of the slightly more experienced recruits were entrusted with the Pegasi they had available, and dispatched as scouts. Along with the Feroxi spies, a map indicating the positioning of the Plegian forces soon began to take shape.

King Gangrel appeared to be trying to mobilize his armies again, but had not crossed the border yet. The loss of General Mustafa must have hit Plegia hard, for most of Plegia's forces remained idle. But Robin suspected that sooner or later, Gangrel would begin his march once more.

"We can't let him march," Robin said to Chrom, during one of their war councils. "Their disorganization is a reprieve for us, but we will need to act quickly, as it won't last forever. King Gangrel is still out for blood, and even though our force is stronger, we would be wise to strike now when they are in disarray and try to end this war swiftly."

Chrom agreed. "Remember what Marth said? About the war dragging on? We can't let that happen. The First Plegian War lasted over four miserable years, and fifteen years later, we still haven't truly recovered."

Reinforcements were pouring into the capital daily. Farmers and city-folk alike had come from all corners of Ylisse. At Chrom's request, Duke Themis had went to the other old houses of Ylisse, begging for help. Though not all of them had always agreed with Emmeryn, the nobles took the loss bitterly as well, and their pride demanded that they act. Ylisse soon had a sizable militia of its own – nothing near the strength of the Feroxi or Plegian forces, but enough to make a difference.

Robin soon began to draw up plans for an invasion of Plegia, plotting the most suitable courses with the most favorable battlefields. Again, the premise of the plan was simple. Cut through quickly and efficiently, and decapitate the Plegian army. Robin marked out the paths of least resistance through Plegian territory. "If we can bring Gangrel down, we may be able to negotiate the end of the war," Robin said hopefully. "He is Plegia's only remaining semblance of leadership."

"A corrupt one," Chrom added darkly. Despite his lofty speech and ideals, bitterness still remained. But he was determined not to allow those feelings to steer him astray. He'd live with the emotions for now, and after the war, the healing could begin.

* * *

"Robin," Miriel greeted, stepping into the throne room. Chrom still refused to sit in the throne, feeling uncomfortable in his sister's place. A conference table had been moved into the room, and was covered in maps. Robin and Chrom sat on opposite sides of the tables, where they had practically become permanent fixtures the past two days. They even ate at the table, and only when Sumia insisted upon bringing them meals, forcing them to eat. When they were too tired to think, they simply laid their heads down for a quick nap.

"Good afternoon, Miriel," Robin greeted.

"What can we do for you?" Chrom asked, surprised by her presence. The khans were preparing the supplies and had agreed to manage the Shepherd's inventory as well as it was so small relative to the army they commanded.

"I asked her to do some research for me," Robin explained. "Is this about the risen, Miriel?"

"It is," the erudite woman replied. "I have found texts that may yet prove relevant to our plight." She turned to Chrom. "At our tactician's request, I have been researching the anomaly with our antecedent procedure, in hopes of understanding the repertoire our adversaries command."

"I asked her to see if she could find out how King Gangrel created the risen during our last battle," Robin translated, when Chrom looked more confused than ever. "What did you find?" Robin asked, turning to Miriel.

"There are few references to the ghastly fiends," Miriel admitted. "But some of the oldest literature referencing the war of the first exalt mention the presence of similar undead foes. The risen, as we call them, may be congruent with the minions of the fell dragon itself."

Chrom's eyes widened. "You're saying Grima could summon the risen?"

Miriel nodded. "Perhaps. Some legends indicate that his most loyal proponents carried vessels containing a hint of the fell dragon's essence, and through their utilization, summon their deity's aid. The story bears a fascinating similarity to our plight."

"So, perhaps the Grimleal supporting Plegia still hold some of these… vessels," Robin said grimly. Then he realized something else. "Would they not have used these in the previous war if they had them? Perhaps they only recently discovered a cache of their ancient weapons. We know they have been more active of late, courtesy of their attempt to capture Nowi."

Chrom nodded. "That would make sense."

"Then that would make Aversa Grimleal," Robin remarked. "Gangrel was as surprised as we were to see the risen, but Aversa remained calm, as if she expected it to happen." Another thought occurred to him. "Wait a moment! Chrom, Marth claimed to be from the future right? A future where Grima had returned?"

"Are you suggesting Marth is Grimleal, too?" Chrom asked, surprised.

"No… but you and I both saw the risen arrive with her that night. They couldn't have all come from the future though. So maybe the Grimleal orchestrated this war. Maybe, in Marth's timeline, The Grimleal triumphed over Ylisse with these weapons, and with Plegia's help, and found a way to resurrect the fell dragon." It was only a theory, but a terrifying prospect nonetheless.

"If it is, then all we can do is keep a close eye on the Grimleal," Chrom finally said with a frown. "Or perhaps, if Gangrel loses now, the threat will end with him. The Grimleal aren't numerous, and without their proxy, they won't pose much of a threat."

Robin nodded. "I guess it means our goal hasn't changed. Take down King Gangrel, and try to negotiate a peaceful end to this war as soon as possible. But we will have to keep our eye out for the risen in the future. Thank you, Miriel," Robin said, turning back to the scholar. Miriel bowed politely before showing herself out.

* * *

"By the way, Robin, Cordelia asked me to remind you that you promised you'd be there if she wanted to talk," Sumia said cheerfully one evening, as she delivered another meal to her weary friends.

"I said she'd know where to find me," Robin replied wryly. "And it's true; I don't think I've moved for three days now."

"Well, now's as good a time as any isn't it?" Sumia urged. "You should go get some fresh air. I bet it will help you think more clearly, too."

"I don't have time," Robin protested, gesturing towards the stack of maps and plans that had steadily grown. The Feroxi scouts had brought him some rough sketches of the terrain of the likely battlefields, and Robin was trying his best to prepare plans for the khans.

Chrom laughed. "You can't win an argument with her, Robin," he said with a smile. "Go for a walk, it'll do you some good."

"Fine," Robin conceded with a sigh, standing. He stretched a bit, as his joints were painfully stiff, before setting off. "I think I need to get back to my training routine," he muttered, as he realized just how long it had been since his last morning exercise session.

Sumia sat down in Robin's seat after the tactician left, but remained silent, eyeing Chrom as he numbly swallowed some of the food. To her surprise, his attention was no longer on the battle plans. Instead, he seemed to be staring vacantly at the wall.

Finally, unable to stand the silence anymore, Sumia spoke. "Maybe you should take a break too, Prince," she suggested quietly.

Chrom turned to her, a strange, wistful look in his eyes. "Listen, Sumia. I think I owe you another apology."

"What's with you and always apologizing to people?" Sumia asked with a kind smile.

"Years ago, Emmeryn gave you a home here in the castle with us. It was only right after all you had already lost because of us," Chrom began.

"That wasn't your fault," Sumia protested immediately. "My father made his own decisions!"

"Maybe," Chrom admitted. "But still, you've suffered so much on our behalf already. We thought we were being kind in giving you a home here, in the castle. But now, we've only brought you into this mess too. You deserve better, Sumia. You shouldn't be here."

Sumia froze, alarmed. "You aren't dismissing me, are you?" she asked, terrified.

Chrom smiled. "I wish I could, for your own sake. I wish I could give you a life of peace somewhere quiet and safe. But we need you here with us." He sighed. "I need you here with me," Chrom admitted quietly, as he realized just how much he had come to depend upon and appreciate his dear friend's unending and unconditional support.

"Good," Sumia replied instantly. "Because I'm not going anywhere. It's an honor and priviledge to serve you, Captain. Besides, being a soldier isn't all bad! I've always loved spending times with animals, and I'm fighting to keep them safe too. And I've made more friends than ever, fighting with the Shepherds."

Chrom looked uneasy. "I don't know what to say, Sumia. Except to thank you again. Thank you for all your sacrifices, and for always being here for me. I promise, I'll do everything in power to end this war quickly. If I can't deliver you peace right now, I guess I'll just have to build towards that future. For all of us."

"We'll build that future, together," Sumia assured. "Now why don't you lie down and get some sleep? Since Robin is out right now, anyways."

* * *

Robin wandered down the hall aimlessly. How did Sumia talk him into this again? He felt nearly lost in the castle. It occurred to him that he hadn't ever really explored the castle, and he wasn't even sure where he was going.

He met several of the Shepherds as he walked along. Maribelle and Lissa both greeted him enthusiastically. "It's like you're turning into Frederick!" Lissa had joked. "You need to live, too, you know?"

Nowi had rushed over to his side when he passed what must be the mess hall, offering him a few unusual sweets. "Gaius gave them to me," she explained happily. "They're really good! You should try one!"

Tharja had spotted him a few moments later, and tailed him silently for some time, which made Robin feel rather nervous. "Can I help you with something?" he offered graciously, after several minutes. The dark mage, realizing she had been spotted, mumbled something before disappearing around the corner.

Virion was sitting idle in the library, playing the strategy board game with Ricken, who seemed extremely frustrated. Virion waved lazily to Robin as he passed. A short moment later, Vaike jumped out from seemingly nowhere, clapping Robin painfully on the back. "Hey, you're alive!"

Half an hour of aimless meandering later, Robin finally found himself in familiar passageways. "Well if I'm supposed to take a break, I might as well do some training," he said to himself as he started making his way towards the training yard. "Maybe Lon'qu will want to spar, though I'm sure I'd lose horribly in this state."

As the doorway came into sight though, he heard Cordelia calling to him. "Hey, Robin!"

Robin winced guiltily, suddenly remembering that she had wanted to talk to him. "Hello, Cordelia," he said, turning to face the young woman.

He could immediately tell that their respite in Ylisstol had been kind to Cordelia. Her long red hair was now neatly combed, and flowed elegantly behind her, no longer the wind-blown mess it usually was while they were on the road. Her amber eyes shown with a luster he hadn't noticed before, no longer plagued the weariness that had followed her since they day they met. "Y-You look good," he stammered. He grinned shakily. "Makes me feel kind of bad. I probably look awful, don't I?"

Cordelia examined him carefully, her expression intense. "You'll be fine if you sleep in an actual bed for once," she finally remarked, smiling. "I bet your back is all stiff from sleeping hunched over the old conference table every night."

"It is," Robin admitted, as he hastily searched for a way to change the subject. "By the way, Sumia said you wanted a word with me."

"Oh, right. It's nothing urgent, I just wanted to show you these," Cordelia said, presenting him with a small stack of javelins. "Most of our javelins were lost or broken back in Plegia," she explained.

"These were masterfully made," Robin said, examining the weapons closely. "Pretty artistic too," he commented, noting a small pattern engraved on the shaft of each javelin. Upon closer inspection, he realized the patterns differed between each javelin. He couldn't help but wonder how practical it really was – javelins rarely lasted more than a few uses, and the decorations probably wouldn't affect their utility.

"Why, thank you," Cordelia said with another smile. "Do you like the patterns? I designed them myself."

Robin blinked. "Wait, _you_ made these javelins? From scratch?"

"Well, it didn't seem too practical to wait for the javelin fairy to come along," Cordelia retorted with a smirk. "Forging the heads is the hardest part, I haven't worked much with metal before, but the shaft and grip are easy enough," she added. Robin looked at her wide-eyed. "What?" she asked, nervously.

"That's… really impressive," Robin said weakly, handing the javelins back. "They're amazing."

"Thanks," Cordelia said again, blushing slightly. "I'm glad to see you out and about, by the way."

"Sumia insisted, I'm afraid. But I really can't complain. I'm definitely overdue for a bit of training," Robin said.

"You know, it's pretty impressive how Sumia can get both you and Chrom to listen to her so easily," Cordelia noted. "I wonder what her secret is."

"Maybe you could try talking," Robin suggested dryly. "Never mind," he said quickly, when Cordelia looked at him blankly. The two of them stepped out into the training yard together. Robin felt a mixture of disappointment and relief upon seeing the empty training yard. He really did feel like sparring again, but he wasn't sure his body would appreciate the exertion right now.

"Were you looking for something?" Cordelia asked when she saw him glancing around the courtyard.

"Not really. I was half-hoping Lon'qu would be up for a bit of sparring, but it's probably better that he isn't here. A broken arm would make drawing the rest of our plans a little more difficult," Robin said lightly. To his surprise, Cordelia stepped over to the weapons rack holding the wooden training weapons. She lifted a pair of sword shaped poles, and tossed one to him lightly.

"I'll spar with you," she offered. "Don't worry, I'll go easy on you," she said, grinning slyly, when Robin looked hesitant. "I promise I won't break anything."

With a shrug, Robin fell into his combat stance. The two sparred for some time, slowly at first as Robin stretched out a few aches and his joints became accustomed to motion once more. Although Cordelia used a lance most of the time, it was clear she had trained with a sword before. Her techniques were much like the ones that Frederick had taught him, the basic techniques all Ylissean soldiers were taught. She proved to be much quicker than Frederick or Chrom, faster than Lon'qu, even, but her footwork seemed a little bit uneven and her attacks were rather predictable.

"You're really good at this," Robin complimented. They had been sparring for almost twenty minutes, and sweat beaded on his forehead. "I'm surprise you don't always use a sword."

"I'm better with a lance, honestly. And I'm not so good at running," Cordelia admitted. "It always feels like I'm off-balance. It's half the reason Captain Phila offered to make me a Pegasus knight."

"And the other half?" Robin asked curiously.

"Catria," Cordelia replied, smiling. "My Pegasus. She was a young foal when I began training with the other recruits. I met her one morning, down in the stables, and she seemed to like me. When Captain Phila noticed, she said that in a year or two, when Catria was big enough to ride, I could join the Pegasus knights."

"I see," Robin mused. Pegasi were unusual creatures. Horses could be loyal and attached, but he sensed that the relationship between a Pegasus and his or her rider was something more. Sumia and Caeda had certainly been rather attached to each other since they met.

"Are you tired?" Cordelia asked. "Maybe you should go get some sleep. We can continue tomorrow if you like. Or whenever you next drag yourself away from the maps," she finished teasingly.

"I'd like that," Robin said. "And you're right. I think I'll go bathe and get some rest. The plans will still be there tomorrow."

"Good," Cordelia said approvingly. "Good night, Robin!"

As she turned and walked back into the castle, Robin watched her leave, his thoughts drifting away from the coming war. It was quite unfortunate that Cordelia had never found the courage to approach Chrom. She was quite an amazing woman – tender and caring, strong and beautiful, clever and hardworking. "You would make a wonderful queen," Robin mused quietly.

To Robin's surprise, he found himself slightly envious of Chrom.

* * *

When Robin returned to the throne room, freshened up after a bath, he was surprised to see two beds had been moved into the room. "Sumia's work," Chrom explained, lying in one of them. "She decided we couldn't keep sleeping at the table. Also, she promised to check on us, and threatened to have Frederick nail us to our beds if we weren't sleeping by midnight."

"Well then, I guess we'd better get some sleep, then," Robin said with a yawn. "I think we should probably start training again. These plans are coming together and we'll be on the road again soon. But we can't set off like this; twenty minutes of sparring and I'm beat."

"I guess you're right," Chrom agreed, with a yawn of his own. "Tomorrow then. I think we've mapped out most of eastern Plegia by now, anyways. The maps should be good to go in a couple days, anyways"


	11. Chapter 9: The Ylissean Advance

**Chapter 9: The Ylissean Advance**

Robin sat in stunned disbelief.

Several of the Feroxi and Ylissean scouts had returned, all bearing the same news. King Gangrel had left the capital for the Border Wastes, a region less than fifty miles south of the Border Sands through which the Shepherds had crossed through previously. The terrain there was much more suitable for passage, so Robin had eschewed that route before, a decision that proved correct. Until General Mustafa confronted them in the Midmire, the Plegian general and most of his men were stationed around the Border Wastes.

The forces had been scattered now. When the Shepherds escaped the capital, General Mustafa had spread his forces, before personally deducing their escape route and meeting them at the Midmire. According to the reports, King Gangrel had finally managed to salvage some of his armies, which were en route to the Ylissean border. However, the armies he had organized represented only a fraction of his strength. They were divided, too, with half crossing at the Border Pass to the south, and another half crossing directly north of the Border Sands, with the intention of threatening Ferox. King Gangrel apparently hoped to collect a third force at the Border Wastes, completing a three-pronged attack.

Most of their plans were useless now, since Gangrel and his forces were so close to the border already, despite being thoroughly unprepared. But it hardly seemed to matter, since the Feroxi forces could meet and easily crush either of the weakened forces. Even split, the Feroxi army would emerge victorious from both battles. Additionally, from all reports, the Plegian armies were poorly supplied, too. And King Gangrel himself was exposed now. There was no need for a bloody campaign through Plegian soil, after all.

"Robin, what do you make of this?" Chrom asked, just as surprised at the intelligence they had received.

"I think King Gangrel has erred," Robin said, his mouth slowly stretching into a broad grin. "He hasn't given his army the time it needs to recover, and is sending them into unfamiliar battlegrounds without the necessary resources. And if we set out now, we may be able to challenge him head-on without having to destroy all of his misplaced armies."

"Then what are we waiting for?" Khan Basilio said, laughing uproariously. "It's time to raise some hell!"

Robin nodded slowly. He turned to Khan Flavia, the only other person who remained in the throne room, the scouts having been dismissed immediately after delivering the news. "Khan Flavia, I think we need to divide the Feroxi army as well. Our goal isn't to destroy the Plegian armies. I want you to send two-thirds of your forces and greet Plegia's northern advance. If you can slow them or turn them back, that will be enough – keep them away from Ferox, and from the villages of both Ylisse and Ferox."

"Are you sure that's wise?" Flavia questioned. "That force is the farthest from Ylisstol."

"It's an obvious diversion," Robin admitted. "He's using that force to threaten Ferox, forcing us to counter it, while the other two assaults are aimed at Ylisstol once more. He can't expect the northern attack to reach Regna Ferox or Ylisstol in a timely manner. But judging from the strength of his armies, the Ylissean militia can handle the Plegians crossing at the Border Pass. Again, our intent will be only to slow them down. Enough blood has been spilled."

"Then our plan hasn't changed," Chrom understood. "We're going straight for Gangrel himself."

"Exactly," Robin confirmed. "The Shepherds and the remaining Feroxi warriors will meet the advance at the Border Wastes directly. If Gangrel has wizened up a little, he will wait at the Border Waste for us, but since his troops are scattered, our force will still prove superior. If not, he will send them off too, before they are ready."

"If they do," Basilio interrupted, "Flavia will lead me and the remaining Feroxi in a head-on assault against them. That should buy you Shepherds enough time to find and take down Gangrel. Hear that boy? You get the fun part!" he said, finishing with a great laugh.

"I thought you weren't going to call me 'boy' anymore," Chrom said with a smile.

Robin laughed, too, his confidence returning at last. The two of them had actually slept properly the last two nights. They had also found time for a bit of sparring and training, many of the other Shepherds joining eagerly. To Robin's surprise, some of the Shepherds had picked up some new skills, too. Maribelle and Lissa had started studying magic with Ricken, who proved to be a better instructor than Miriel, despite his own inexperience. Both women were capable of wielding basic tomes now. Duke Themis had sent his two personal bodyguards, two trained mages, to join the militia, and had purchased several tomes from one of the local vendors in his province which he sent to Ylisstol. With five mages outfitted with wind magic, wyverns would prove to be far less of a threat.

Conventional weapons were still in short supply, though. Flavia had brought them a handful of fine steel swords that the Feroxi could spare, but the militia and the Feroxi army had needed the bulk of the weapons. Still, it was enough for Robin to replace most weapons that were on the verge of breaking. It was a shame they couldn't all be wielding indestructible, legendary, millennia-old swords like Chrom.

The brooding was over. The grief was still there, but it was controlled now, and rather than manifesting as depression and angst, it was a steady flame of determination in their hearts. The old Chrom was back, and now it was time to put an end to this war.

* * *

The Shepherds set out that very afternoon, in fine spirits, marching towards the Border Wastes. Robin had instructed the khans to take the main road, which was more suitable for the larger Feroxi force. The Shepherds could handle the less traveled roads more easily and pace the Feroxi army. This way, if they encountered the Plegians on their side of the Plegia-Ylisse border, who would certainly follow the main road, the Feroxi could keep them occupied. The Shepherds, travelling around ten miles south, roughly parallel, would have the space they need to cut behind the Plegian main host.

Robin's plan did not allow for bandits, however. They travelled by most of the smaller towns, hoping to avoid alarming the populace and also fearing Plegian spies. For the most part they had escaped the attention of the locals, until one quiet evening, when a young Ylissean farmer burst into their midst.

"Halp! You gots to help us! I'm beggin' you milords!" the man cried. He appeared slightly younger than most of the Shepherds, possibly the same age as Ricken. He carried a pitchfork at his side, a poor substitute for a real weapon, and wore a tin pot over his head, covering most of his dark messy hair. The boy had found no replacement for armor, and wore a simple, poorly-fitted blue cloth tunic over light brown breeches. A rope was tied around his waist, forming a makeshift belt. He did wear a pair of fine leather shoes – probably all the luxury the boy could afford. Robin would have found the sight comical if it weren't for the boy's obvious panic.

"Calm down," Chrom said, approaching the boy. "What happened?"

The boy took a deep breath, but before he could speak, another man burst into their midst. This newcomer had wildly overgrown hair and frayed clothing, and carried a massive axe over his shoulder. "Oy! There's the wee piglet!" he crowed in a Plegian accent, spotting the boy. A second later, he noticed the many Shepherds approaching him, weapons drawn. "Aw, damn me! Sh-Shepherds!" The terrified bandit promptly fled.

"Quickly, lad, what happened here?" Chrom asked the farmer gently, as the bandit fled the camp.

The farmer looked at Chrom in shock, recognizing his sovereign. "Y-yes milord! Right away milord! Um… if it pleases Your Graciousness."

"Maybe just hold off on the titles for now," Chrom said, still trying to calm the panicked boy. "What's your name?"

"Donny!" the farmer blurted. "Um. That is. Donnel. Your majesty. I live in the village just down the hill, sir."

"What happened?" Robin urged.

"That rotten-toothed pig-stinkin' bandit you just ran off attacked us! Er, pardon my language, Your Lordliness. I'm the only one who got away, and even then just barely! They were roundin' up the others to haul 'em off to a bandit camp. Please, sir! You gots to save them folks! My ma's one of them and she's all I got in this world! Please! I beg of you!" Donnel said very quickly.

Chrom grimaced. The Plegians had supposedly called off their raiders, but from their last encounter with bandits north near the border, Chrom knew some of the Plegians had simply become true brigands, living off the land and preying on vulnerable villages. This couldn't be allowed to continue.

"All right Donnel. Don't worry, we'll save your ma. Can you lead us to her?"

"Thank you, thank you Milord, thank you!" the boy stammered profusely. Chrom gestured impatiently towards the hill, and the boy set off immediately, several of the Shepherds following close behind.

Fortunately, Donnel was familiar with the local wilderness, navigating the woods with ease in spite of the darkness. But to their collective surprise, there was already a confrontation of some sort at the village. A large brigand with fierce war paint that Chrom immediately recognized had cornered someone against a large cobblestone wall.

"This isn't really very nice of you," the cornered girl said, in a pouting tone. "Picking on poor innocent villagers like these?"

The bandit, Vincent, as Chrom remembered he was called, merely laughed. "Well, it was quite nice of you to join in the fun!" he said sleazily. "I aim to settle a debt, girly."

"Have we met?" the girl asked, confused.

"Playing dumb won't save you! The gold you net from the slavers will build Victor the finest grave in the land!" the bandit roared. But at that moment, the Shepherds piled into the village square, Chrom in the lead, shortly followed by Vaike, Robin, and Kellam. Frederick rode out around them, his polished armor gleaming intimidatingly in the flickering torchlight.

"Back away from her!" Chrom warned. Then he did a double-take, recognizing the girl as Anna, the woman who had been defending the other village from this bandit's brother. "Anna?"

The bandit, not too interested in reunions, simply shouted out to his band. "Kill them!"

The bandits descended on the Shepherds like a pack of angry wolves, but found themselves quickly outmatched. The disciplined Shepherds moved in concert, driving the bandits back and felling them one after another.

During the distraction, Vincent had turned his attention back to Anna. But to his dismay, Anna had produced a weapon of her own, a familiar, curved sword with a wicked edge. The two began to fight, the burly giant against the acrobatic fencer. It was Anna's turn to be disappointed – Vincent wasn't wearing much armor, and was in fact topless, but didn't so much as slow when she landed blow after blow against him. Instead, the bandit seemed only to grow angrier even as his blood flowed freely. Though the wild attacks weren't difficult to avoid, a swift chop from that massive axe was enough to collapse the cobblestone wall behind her.

Chrom leapt forward to help, but was intercepted by a pair of the bandits. Suddenly, the lord was pressed severely from both sides, punished for his reckless attempt to reach the red-haired woman and her beastly foe. He turned and called for help, and to his surprise, his call was answered not by Robin with his lightning or Frederick dashing across the field, but by Donnel with his trusty pitchfork.

Though clearly not designed for battle, the pitchfork did its work against a surprised bandit. It snapped in two as the bandit fell dead, and no longer flanked, Chrom easily dispatched his remaining foe before rushing to Anna's side.

"Hello there, handsome!" the woman called to Chrom brightly, as she skittered away from another wildly inaccurate blow. "Am I being rescued?"

"Stay still!" Vincent roared, frustrated, as he barreled towards his opponent, now bleeding from over a dozen minor wounds. No longer interested in using his axe, he seemed to hope simply to tackle the woman to the ground. But the lumbering behemoth of a man was too slow, and the agile woman nimbly sidestepped his charge. He tried to turn, and instead stumbled, crashing to the ground.

Chrom approached quickly, finishing the bandit chieftain with a swift chop, before turning Anna. "Well, that was the plan, but you seem to be holding up just fine." He turned back to his Shepherds, who were cleaning up the rest of the bandits.

"Well, thanks for your help," Anna said. "The name's Anna. Some folks like to call me the secret seller," she introduced. Chrom turned back, frowning.

"Yes, I remember you," he said. His frown deepened when he noted the girl's quizzical expression.

"Hmm… I'm drawing a blank," Anna admitted, a finger pressed against her lips in a pensive expression.

"What? We helped you before, at the village near Ferox. Remember?" Chrom asked, confused.

"Oh!" Anna cried, in a tone of sudden understanding. "You must have met one of my sisters!"

"Sisters? You must look identical," Chrom said, shaking his head.

"Yep, there's a strong family resemblance," Anna said happily. "Oh. And we're all travelling merchants. With the same name."

"Your family gatherings must be pretty chaotic," Robin remarked dryly, overhearing the conversation as he approached, now that the fighting had died down. "Chrom, I think that's the last of the bandits."

"Good," Chrom said, turning to his tactician. "Well, nice to meet you, Anna, but I'm afraid we'll have to be on our way now," Chrom said. "Until next time."

"Hang on," Anna interrupted. "Maybe I could help you! You look like you could use a merchant. I could help you with finding weapons and supplies and all that, you know? What do you think? Fancy taking me with you?"

Chrom hesitated. The offer was a good one, but they had come here to help the locals get out of trouble, not drag them into a war. "Sorry," Chrom said. "You're probably safer on your own to be quite honest. We're marching straight towards a war."

"Well, then at least I know I won't be bored then," Anna teased. "Besides, I bet I'll be safer having people like you around. I can be very useful," she promised.

"Alright then," Chrom replied after thinking it over. "If you're certain."

* * *

As they waved their farewells to the grateful villagers, they encountered another surprise.

"W-wait! Please!" Donnel pleaded, separating from the crowd and approaching Chrom.

"Something wrong?" Chrom asked.

"I has a request, sir. If it pleases your Graceliness. Take me with you, milord! Lemme be a Shepherd like you! Please, sir!" Donnel begged.

An older woman rushed forth from the ground, grabbing Donnel's arm. "Hush now, you fool boy!" she pleaded quietly.

"But Ma!" Donnel said, rounding on the woman. "These are real heroes, fighting to keep us common folk safe, and I want to help! I never thought I was good for nothin' more than shoveling dirt. Maybe I can do more! Maybe this is my chance!"

"You need to be knowin' your place, boy!" Donnel's mother corrected. "A farmhand's no fit for a royal-"

"Actually," Chrom interrupted. "We'd be thrilled to have him, ma'am. Donnel fought bravely back there, and even saved my life. The Shepherds need every good man we can find."

Then Chrom turned to Donnel. "But Donny, listen to me. This is dangerous. We're not fighting for glory, or trying to become heroes. There's work that has to be done out there, and it's possible not all of us will make it home. I don't think you should come with us. You have friends and family here that you would be leaving behind, possibly forever."

Donnel pondered that thought for a moment. He turned, to his mother looking at him sadly, beseechingly. The sight seemed to help him make up his mind, and he turned back to face Chrom.

"Milord, I ain't fighting for glory. I'm fighting for my Ma! For my friends and family! If you're fighting to keep us safe, heck, the least I can do is help!" Donnel said boldly. "So please, your Highness, take me with you!"

Chrom looked towards the boy's mother, who wore an expression of mixed fear and pride. "I'll do anything I can to bring him back safely," he promised quietly. The woman smiled hesitantly at that, then nodded her approval nervously. Donnel, seeing her nod, whooped for joy.

The Shepherds returned to the camp, a merchant and farmer joining their ranks.

* * *

As always, Lissa was the most eager to greet their new companions. At her insistence, Donnel shared a bunch of stories of farm life. He seemed hesitant at first, as he felt the stories were rather drab. But as he went on and his audience laughed right along with him, he became more comfortable with it. Sully in particular seemed very interested in farm life.

"I don't get it," Donnel confessed, as the others were laughing at his tale of the annual greased-piglet run. "Farm life's as dull as rocks, I reckon."

"To you, maybe," Sully remarked. "I grew up in a damn castle, remember? It's all new to me."

"And Robin doesn't even know where he grew up!" Lissa added with a smile. "Everything is new to him!"

Robin smiled. "True. It's all pretty fascinating to me."

"Well, I ain't for knowing a thing about knights besides the stories," Donnel admitted. "I reckon I have lots to learn from you folks too."

"You got that right," Sully said, nodding. "Tomorrow. I'll show you how to use a spear – it'll work better than your stick," she said, indicating the half of the pitchfork Donnel still carried.

"Err… it was a pitchfork," Donnel admitted.

"Until he used it to save Chrom's life," Robin added. Donnel blushed, but the others turned, surprised and eagerly awaiting another story.

* * *

"Hello, Robin," Cordelia called, spotting the tactician sitting alone on a small grassy hill, looking off into the distance.

"Good evening," Robin replied absentmindedly. He seemed deep in thought.

"What's on your mind?" Cordelia asked curiously.

"We're making good progress," Robin noted quietly. "We'll arrive at the Border Wastes the day after tomorrow."

"Don't tell me you're doubting your own plan again," Cordelia said, shaking her head. "The Feroxi scouts were just here earlier today, remember? Everything is exactly as you predicted. The Plegians set out as soon as the wyvern scouts saw the Feroxi coming up the main road, and they haven't even noticed us."

"Everything was in exactly the right place last time too," Robin pointed out dryly. "But no, I'm not doubting the plan. Not this time. I was just reflecting on everything that happened. It's a war, after all, and no matter how careful we are, this next battle could still be my last."

"Don't say that!" Cordelia interrupted suddenly. "You're not going to die. You can't. We've lost too much already in this war."

Robin smiled gently. "I know, Cordelia. That's why I want to be at my very best when we reach Plegia. That way, if I fall, I can be at peace, knowing that I gave my life doing everything I could for the people I care about."

Cordelia pressed her lips together tightly, not quite knowing what to say. Although she had finally come to peace with her knight-sisters dying, although the Shepherds had rallied around Emmeryn's sacrifice, somehow, Robin speaking so casually of death scared her. The thought of losing him was unbearable. Finally, she settled for changing the subject. "Fine. But we both know you're too tough and too clever to die, Robin. So what do you want to do after this is all over?"

"I haven't really considered it," Robin admitted. "I don't have any family besides the Shepherds, and I suppose most of us will go our own way when this is over. And I imagine if I had any blood relatives, they would've found me by now. I came out of nowhere though. Maybe I'll just head back to nowhere after the war. Settle down somewhere quiet."

"Settle down?" Cordelia asked curiously.

"I could find a peaceful place and start a farm or something," Robin said. "That would be a nice life, wouldn't it?"

"Maybe, but wouldn't you get lonely? Or were you planning to get married and raise a family, too?" Cordelia asked.

Robin shrugged. "I'd have to find a woman who could stand me first," he said with a smirk. "I've got a little problem, remember? The whole amnesia thing? I don't know much about anything besides, well, war."

It was Cordelia's turn to shrug. "You'll find a way. I mean, you get along with all of us Shepherds, right?"

"Well, to be fair, the Shepherds aren't exactly representative of the population," Robin said with a shrug.

"What about the girls here, then?" Cordelia teased. "Most of us lady Shepherds are still single, and we all like you."

"You think so?" Robin asked quietly.

"Of course," Cordelia replied. "Haven't you noticed? Every Shepherd loves you as much as they love Chrom himself. You're always there for us when we need you, always pushing yourself harder than would be wise."

Robin shrugged, not really having an answer.

"Well?" Cordelia asked, after several seconds.

"Well what?" Robin asked, turning to face her.

"Come on Robin, there has to be a girl you've liked, right?" Cordelia insisted. "Don't try to tell me you've never even thought about it."

Robin groaned. He actually hadn't really thought about it. But at her words, he began thinking of his strange feelings that day back in the training yard, and he realized Cordelia could actually be right. Perhaps there was a certain woman who he was always comfortable talking to, and who had always been there for him since they met. That path led nowhere, though, as Robin knew his friend loved another, and with good reason; what was an amnesiac tactician, when compared to the brave and noble Prince Chrom, anyways?

"If there is, I'm not telling," Robin finally answered, in a dry tone.

Cordelia looked surprised for a moment. "Come on, Robin, you can tell me," Cordelia said playfully, shoving his shoulder lightly.

"Nope."

"Well, tell me about her then," Cordelia insisted, sounding rather petulant.

"Who?" Robin asked, feigning ignorance. When Cordelia pouted, he couldn't help but laugh. "Fine, you win. She's beautiful and kind, strong and clever."

"That was pretty specific. It only narrows it down to every female in the camp," Cordelia said, rolling her eyes. "Am I talking to Robin or Virion here?"

"Well, I imagine if I was talking about Miriel, I would've added eccentric and incomprehensible," Robin said with a laugh. "But I'm not telling you anything else."

"Well, maybe you should tell her instead," Cordelia suggested, her tone wistful.

"You really are a romantic, are you?" Robin commented. "But no, I can't tell her. I'm afraid she's in love with someone else already." Even as the words left his lips, he cursed himself mentally. As far as he was aware, there was only one female Shepherd who was in love with anyone at all.

Cordelia looked surprised. If Robin had been watching her face carefully, he may even had noticed a shadow of hurt in her eyes. "Well. I still think you should tell her," she finally said after several seconds. "I guess… well, just remember that we all love you Robin, and you'd better not go dying on us when we reach Plegia. Alright?"

"We're at war," Robin reminded softly. "But I promise I'll do my best to stay alive."

"That's good enough for me. Good night, Robin."

"Good night."

* * *

The Shepherds continued their march towards the Border Wastes. The next day, the Feroxi messengers reported that the Plegians were still moving as expected, and they were expected to meet before the day was over. The next morning, as the Shepherds reached their destination, the messengers returned again, this time with word that the fighting had begun.

The Shepherds stood upon a small cliff overlooking the wide, flat field below. The Plegians had apparently spotted their approach just in time, and were scrambling across the field, trying to prepare themselves.

"Well, we did it," Chrom noted, sweeping his gaze across the field dispassionately, trying to keep his own emotions steady. The force here appeared was even smaller than the force that they had fought in the Plegian capital, with less than fifty soldiers visible.

At the center of the field was an older set of fortifications, ringed by several newer ones. A pair of wyvern riders hovered overhead, and half a dozen Plegian soldiers, all carrying axes, stood guard around King Gangrel and Aversa, Aversa sitting calmly astride her black-skinned Pegasus.

Off to the side were another set of shoddily constructed forts, likely concealing additional soldiers. "He's really not very creative, is he?" Robin noted dully. Of course, the Mad King lived up to his moniker – leave it to him to try the same trick twice when it failed dismally the first time.

Finally, another row of the fortifications lay directly between them and Gangrel, creating a separating line. Most of the visible Plegian soldiers were milling about those forts. There were a couple mages present, dressed in conventional robes.

This was the exact situation Robin had hoped for. King Gangrel was isolated with a small amount of soldiers, and the Shepherds were well-rested and fully armed. On top of that, the terrain had been carefully studied, with multiple plans laid. It was time to end this war.

* * *

"Shepherds!" Chrom cried out. His call was met with a round of cheering and applause. "Today, we will face the Mad King. Our road has been far too long, but we have finally reached its end. We will defeat the Mad King here, and bring peace back to our home. For Ylisse!"

"For Ylisse!" the Shepherds answered, taking up the cry.

"And one last thing," Chrom said. "No matter how things look out there, remember that we're a family. Fight as hard as you can, because I don't want a single one of you dying out there. Together, we're going to win this war, celebrate our victory, and build a new era of peace together. I need you there with me, so stay alert, and watch your backs. There's been too much grief already, you hear?"

The Shepherds cheered again.

* * *

"Well, milord, it appears the Shepherds have indeed taken to the field," Aversa said. Her sultry, teasing voice indicated she wasn't overly concerned. Their scouts had indicated a few hours earlier that another, smaller force had circumvented the Plegian army. The scouts had identified the leader of the band as Prince Chrom.

"So it would seem," Gangrel remarked, eyeing the approaching Shepherds. "It feels as though we just said our good-byes." Gangrel spat on the ground angrily. "Time to bring an end to the upstart prince. No more tricks – he and that cowardly tactician of his die today."

With that, Gangrel stormed down the field to hail the opposing commander.

Aversa watched him leave, amused. Then, at her urging, her Pegasus lifted into the air and carried her from the field. She would have loved to stay and watch the idiot march to his death, but she would rather not be left standing amidst the victorious Shepherds.


	12. Chapter 10: The Mad King

**Chapter 10: The Mad King**

Chrom watched as Gangrel himself marched down the field. Evidently, the mongrel still had something to say. That was fine with Chrom, who had a few choice words of his own to offer.

But to his surprise, they were first hailed from behind by a Feroxi messenger.

"Sire!" the Feroxi man said, panting for breath. "Khan Flavia sends word that she and Basilio will be joining you shortly!"

"Already?" Robin asked, startled. Had the Feroxi already annihilated the Plegian invasion force?

"The soldiers are deserting en masse," the messenger explained. "Their army was in disarray, and any semblance of organization collapsed almost immediately after the battle began. Most of the soldiers surrendered or fled. Ylissean messengers flew in from the south and the north, too – it appears all three of the Plegian forces have crumbled entirely."

The Shepherds exchanged shocked glances. This was certainly an unexpected, though welcome, development.

"Emmeryn," Chrom finally managed to mutter. "She did it."

The messenger nodded. "Yes sire. The Plegian captains who surrendered did so claiming to have been inspired to by the exalt. They leave the field chanting her name, and refuse to follow their king any further.

"You know what this means, right?" Robin asked, turning back to watch Gangrel's approach. "Once we win here, the war is over. Already, the war is more or less done. We just have to make sure Gangrel never has a chance to force his people to fight again."

"Like Mustafa," Chrom remarked, also turning to watch Gangrel's progress. "I wonder how many people out here now are just like the old general."

"Stay vigilant," Frederick warned. "Maybe you're right about them not wanting to fight, but with Gangrel here personally, they will fight us nonetheless. We, too, must fight to the best of our ability, milord."

Chrom only nodded.

Finally, Gangrel was near enough to be heard.

"Good day, my little princeling!" the Mad King jeered. "Still dreaming of your beautiful, squashed sister?" At his words, many of the Shepherds flinched, but Chrom remained steady.

"This ends today, Gangrel. Today, you die, and peace returns to Ylisse and Plegia."

The Mad King laughed. "Such hypocrisy! You speak of peace, but like your wretched father, your actions are of war! You don't know the first thing about peace!"

"I know more than you ever will," Chrom assured, in a deathly calm tone. "I know that no matter how hard we try, there will be those who simply do not understand peace, who would threaten it as long as they live. I know that sometimes, peace isn't always enough. But I also know that we must always strive toward it, no matter how futile it may seem."

"You claim to know more than me?" the Mad King barked, howling with laughter. "You and I are the same! When life asks a question, you answer with blood and steel! You and I are both men of war!"

"You're right about one thing," Chrom admitted, shaking his head. "Unlike my sister, I don't hesitate to use force when needed. Unlike my sister, there is a seed of hatred and anger in my own heart, festering quietly. But I am bound, Gangrel, to the friends and family that surround me. I am reminded constantly of what truly matters, and what matters now is that you must not be allowed to threaten our kingdoms any longer!"

The Mad King made a retching noise. "Are you finished?" he said mockingly. "How disgustingly eloquent. How pathetically deceitful. Men are beasts and nothing more. We fight, and kill, and devour our prey. Your friends are weak! You are weak! You stand together because you have not the strength to stand alone, and together you will fall!"

With that declaration, the Mad King turned, swirling his cape behind him and striding back to his personal guard. He gestured as he passed the line of forts once more, his soldiers readying their weapons.

Robin eyed the battleground carefully. He remembered every detail he had drawn and the many variations of this exact battlefield they had planned for, and a plan, drawing upon the elements of each, began to take shape. There were only a few last minute details to settle. Robin turned, letting his gaze rest upon each of the Shepherds awaiting his command, finally resting on Chrom. Then, inspiration struck.

"Alright, here's the plan," Robin started. "Frederick – you will lead our cavalry forward toward their defensive line. Engage, then disengage. You know the drill – there's no need to risk fighting them head on when they're comfortably tucked away in the forts. Lure them out to the open field. Target the cavalry if you can; there are only two riders on their side of the field, and without them they can't keep up with us. If they field any archers, eliminate them as you can, so that the skies remain clear. Sumia, take Ricken with you, and wait for the wyverns. Sooner or later, Gangrel will be forced to send them out to the field, or his defensive line will falter to our mobility. Once the wyverns take to the field, you two can bring them down, but stay clear of any archers below."

"As you wish," Frederick said with a bow, before climbing aboard his steed. Beside him, Sumia nodded, before hastening to help Ricken onto Catria's back.

"Cordelia," Robin said, turning to the other Pegasus knight. "I want you to choose another Shepherd. Once you see an opening, the two of you will go straight for Gangrel. He's left himself wide open in the back, without any archers nearby. Once the wyverns move, he'll be completely vulnerable." He ignored Chrom's questioning look.

"Any Shepherd?" Cordelia asked, curiously. Robin's plans were usually more explicit than this.

"That's right," Robin confirmed with a wink. "Well, any except for the cavalry and Virion. You'll want a skilled fighter you can work together with, since Gangrel himself will probably put up a good fight. You'll need to dispatch him quickly, in spite of his guard, so choose carefully," he added, looking pointedly at Chrom.

Cordelia nodded, and Robin turned to Virion. "Virion, I need you to lead the remainder of our forces to those forts on the side. Gangrel's trying the same trick he did back at the Border Pass, and it won't work this time either. Keep them corralled in their forts until the battle is over. Killing them isn't necessary unless they come forth."

"As you command," Virion said, confirming his orders, casually stringing his bow.

"Alright then, let's move out," Robin said with a nod. He moved to take his place by Virion's side. Normally, he would command that group himself, but he intended to follow the rest of the battlefield closely – if the defensive line proved too resilient, he may have to lead a few of the soldiers to reinforce the cavalry.

"Wait, Robin!" Chrom asked suddenly, as the groups began separating. "What about me?"

Robin closed his eyes, slightly exasperated. In truth, he wasn't entirely sure about this part of the plan. It was impulsive, and with it, he was placing his faith in Chrom and Cordelia's respective fighting abilities.

Ignoring the lord for the moment, Robin rounded on Cordelia. "Have you decided, Cordelia?" he asked, slightly impatiently, hoping that he hadn't been too subtle. But to his surprise, the woman urged her steed to his side, and offered him a hand.

"Indeed," she said with a small smile. "Let's go."

Robin and Chrom exchanged looks. Chrom was completely confused – the only one of their plans that called for a direct strike against Gangrel had been for him to ride along with Frederick, past the enemy lines. The lack of archers and the limited enemy air support gave credibility to this newest plan, but Chrom was not expecting the tactician to be the one charging headlong towards Gangrel.

Robin, on the other hand, was more than a little bit annoyed. This wasn't exactly what he had in mind, but given what Sumia had told him about Cordelia and Chrom, it was probably to be expected. He supposed it was too late to change the plan in any graceful manner.

"Chrom, you stay with Virion for now, and be ready to reinforce Frederick and the cavalry if needed," Robin finally decided, accepting Cordelia's hand and climbing onto Catria's back. "Use your best judgment – we're counting on you to get those wyverns out of the way."

He turned his attention to his own objective, on the opposite side of the battlefield. "I guess I've got a date with the Mad King himself," Robin finished calmly. And with that, the Shepherds split, heading towards their appointed positions.

* * *

Virion and Chrom approached the other forts carefully. Surely enough, as Robin had predicted, soldiers lied in wait within the forts. The forts were already isolated by a wide gulch, a shallow, partially dried up stream flowing beneath a pair of rickety wooden bridges. "We shall besiege our enemy from this side of the stream," Virion announced. "Sir Kellam, may I ask that you do us the honor of holding that bridge?" Kellam nodded, surprised he hadn't been forgotten, and moved immediately to the indicated bridge. "Esteemed Lon'qu, I shall leave the other bridge to you." The Feroxi swordsman grunted and moved to the other.

"And now we shall be patient," Virion said calmly.

Across the stream, the nervous Plegian warriors realized they were trapped. Some of them debated running out, and they began to organize a charge, not realizing that the narrow bridges would work against them.

* * *

As the Shepherd cavalry approached, the Plegian soldiers positioned themselves defensively around the forts, preparing for the oncoming assault. Even though the small Plegian force accompanying Gangrel had been caught more or less unawares, they still had the Shepherds outnumbered badly. Leading this garrison was a young, but experienced Plegian mercenary, a handsome and skilled young fighter who had become a local folk hero. A few years ago, though he was barely more than a child, he had singlehandedly rescued a several villagers from a band of Grimleal slavers. In a time where the Mad King's attention was held by Ylisse, he had stood for his people, driving off feral animals, bandits, and other threats.

The young hero cursed the Mad King under his breath. Here he was, leading his people to die in a cause none of them believed in. Because the Mad King willed it. Because if the Mad King survived and learned of his desertion, his poor village would be razed to the ground. The other soldiers eyed their commander nervously. "Remember what we're really fighting for," he finally said. "So long as the Mad King lives, our blades will be his." Several of his men smiled, understanding the double-meaning of his words.

The hero then noticed that the enemy forces had split – only the cavalry was nearing. He hoped Ylisse's legendary tactician had a better plan than that, as the brave Shepherds would be terribly outnumbered on both fronts.

* * *

"You know, I'm getting a sense of déjà vu about all this," Robin commented. Though he hadn't flown since the battle in the Plegian capital, by now, he was well accustomed to the swooping sensation, and found the flight somewhat invigorating.

"What's that?" Cordelia asked, as she kept her attention on the two wyverns hovering over Gangrel.

"This is an awful plan," Robin explained, with a grin. This time though, he remained perfectly calm.

"Don't you dare start that again," Cordelia said, laughing. She remember the conversation back in the Plegian capital, and how Chrom, Frederick, and the two khans spent half the morning reassuring Robin. "How long did you spend planning this one out?"

"About thirty seconds," Robin admitted. "I made this part up at the last moment, and it's already been derailed."

Cordelia turned, mouth open in disbelief. "Please tell me you're joking," she finally said after an awkward pause.

Robin flashed her a grim smile. "Well, the plan was for Chrom to face Gangrel himself, being our best swordsman and all," he said dryly. "I was hoping you'd take the hint."

"What hint?" Cordelia asked, bemused.

"Never mind," Robin said, rolling his eyes. "I think we can take Gangrel. I've got to make all that training count for something, right? By the way, keep an eye out for Aversa. From what we can tell, she's probably Grimleal, and may have a few tricks up her own sleeve if we're not careful."

"Aversa?" Cordelia asked, unfamiliar with the name. All of a sudden, she was the one feeling extremely nervous about this whole affair.

"Gangrel's consort," Robin explained. "She introduced herself to us back at the border pass. She's almost as creepy as Tharja, to be quite honest."

"Tharja's not that bad," Cordelia answered absentmindedly, now searching for any sign of the black Pegasus. "She's just a little bit obsessed with you."

Robin rolled his eyes again. "Just what I needed. Do you girls meet up and chat about who's interested in who or something?"

"No. Well, yes," Cordelia admitted. "But not Tharja. She kind of keeps to herself. But I've seen her stalking you a few times. I even had to drag her away from the throne room once when she was spying on you while you were asleep."

"… and that's not bad?" Robin asked incredulously.

* * *

Far to the northwest, the Plegians had finally readied themselves for a charge. The captain blew a horn, the appointed signal, and as one, the two dozen soldiers emerged from the fort, charging for the bridges.

But the Shepherds were vigilant. Miriel, Lissa, and Tharja immediately fired off their spells, Virion joining in with several carefully placed arrows. Even Kellam joined the fray, hurling a javelin expertly and felling one of the incoming swordsman.

Three of the soldiers fell dead, and two more were wounded, before they even reached the bridges. Those who made it immediately realized their mistake, when they failed to force their way past the armored knight or terrifying swordsman. As they turned to retreat, Virion ordered a short pursuit.

Even Olivia, who had once claimed to be useless, stepped forward, twirling a slim silver sword with practiced ease. As Khan Basilio had promised, the mere sight of her graceful and deadly sword dance was inspiring, and the other Shepherds followed with resounding ferocity.

Virion then ordered a swift retreat, as the surviving Plegians reached the fort. Over half of the soldiers had fallen, wounded, with several dead. The remaining Plegian soldiers huddled in their fort, terrified. Fear became surprise, as they noticed the Shepherds doing their best to help the wounded Plegians. Virion had ordered Lissa and Libra forward to heal those defeated soldiers that still lived, and several others were helping as they could with various healing salves and concoctions.

Meanwhile, Chrom turned his attention to Frederick and the cavalry, who were just beginning their assault on the forts.

* * *

As instructed, Frederick, Sully, Stahl, and Maribelle advanced on the forts. A quick barrage of javelins and a burst of wind magic put the Plegians on the defensive, killing one archer, and the three knights moved in quickly, lances and sword at the ready. But before the Plegians could properly regroup and strike back, all four the Shepherds retreated. The remaining archer, overzealous, stepped out from behind his cover and loosed an arrow at Frederick. Frederick's retort came in the form of a second precisely thrown javelin, and even while the arrow bounced harmlessly off Frederick's armor, the archer fell dead. Seeing the opportunity, Sumia went into a dive. The forts had been shoddily built and did not protect the defenders from above. Ricken held his fire, not wanting to tip their hand until the wyverns closed in, but Sumia hurled a couple javelins into the forts below.

Realizing they were being assailed from above, the young Plegian hero considered their predicament. The mounted Shepherds seemed to be grouping up for another pass, and with both of his archers dead, his only real response was to send his riders forward. But he only had two horses at his disposal, and neither of their riders were half as skilled as the Shepherds facing them now, he knew.

But the Shepherds clearly wanted to draw their opponents onto the field where the Plegian soldiers would be vulnerable. For a moment, he wavered indecisively. They could charge out there, which would be as good as handing victory over on a silver platter, if the Shepherds had appraised the situation correctly. Should he and Gangrel both live, the Mad King could possibly forgive his lapse in judgment. He considered holding position in the fort. The aerial assault had done very little, one javelin injuring a fighter's arm, the other missing widely. The Pegasus knight couldn't be carrying too many more javelins.

He could simply yield, he considered. But he ruled that out immediately – he was not going to gamble the lives of his family and neighbors to save his own life, and he knew most of the soldiers with him felt the same.

The Shepherds rallied and assailed the fortifications again, leaving another soldier dead before retreating. The young Plegian hero cringed – this was cruel, almost, waiting for their opponents to chip away at his force, killing his men one at a time. And if the Shepherds were being patient, that meant they knew they had time. No messengers had returned from their invasion force, and judging by the situation, he wouldn't be surprised in the least if that entire division had simply deserted upon the first sign of opposition.

* * *

"Gangrel's not going to bite," Robin decided, as he watched the Shepherds feign a second attempt to crack the forts.

"Then what do we do?" Cordelia asked.

"We improvise," Robin answered halfheartedly. "You and I took down four of these wyverns the first time we fought together, and we were both completely burnt out. We can handle these two easily enough, I suppose."

"Why didn't we do that to begin with?" Cordelia demanded, sounding a little bit annoyed that he had waited this long to propose another plan. The two had simply idled on the side of the battlefield for some time now, and the tension had her itching for action.

"Because if Sumia and Ricken could have brought down the wyverns then we'd be able to get the jump on Gangrel. Now he'll see us coming," Robin admitted. "But I guess we have no choice, unless we want to stall until the Feroxi host comes. And that gives Aversa time to bring reinforcements of her own," he added. They had concluded earlier that Aversa must have left the battlefield, as she was nowhere to be seen. It was a pleasant surprise, as it meant they would be facing Gangrel alone, save for a handful of common bodyguards.

"Well. Here we go then," Cordelia said. After a nod from Robin, indicating that he was ready, Cordelia urged Catria forward, the two barreling straight towards the unsuspecting wyverns.

The wyvern riders heard their approach far too late. One wyvern was immediately struck by a blast of wind, and spiraled downwards to the ground below. A carefully thrown javelin from Cordelia fell just shy of its mark as the wyvern quickly propelled itself backward, but still lodged itself in the wyvern's tail. The pained wyvern immediately began thrashing, its rider desperately trying to calm it, when a second gust of wind brought it down.

Cordelia then urged Catria into her own, far smoother spiral, descending carefully but remaining out of range of the throwing axes some of the guards carried. From that range, though, her javelins and Robin's magic would also prove inaccurate.

"Now what?" Cordelia asked.

"Now you drop me down at that fort," Robin said calmly, pointing at an older fort, about a hundred paces from the Plegians. Unlike the other forts on the field, this fort had a weathered, aged look, and was larger and complete. As he gave that instruction, he silently reviewed his equipment, a last minute check to ensure everything was in place.

"Okay, I think I'm beginning to agree with you," Cordelia said, eyeing the Plegians below warily. She made no move towards the fort. "This is an awful plan."

"I should be fine down there," Robin insisted. "Just make sure their attention is on me before you join the fray – if they catch you charging them, a hand axe could really do a number on you and Catria."

"And if I don't find an opening, then what?" Cordelia demanded.

"Then I'll have to kill all seven of them myself," Robin said with a shrug. "Now let's go, before Gangrel gets bored and starts talking again."

Cordelia hesitated a moment longer, then urged Catria to turn toward the fort. The Plegians, seeing them attempting to land, tried to close in, but were far too slow in reacting. Robin slid to the ground smoothly and drew his sword in a single, fluid motion, and Cordelia took off immediately once more.

* * *

The Mad King cackled loudly as he saw the challenger, standing at the entrance of the fort. He had expected the pitiful excuse for a prince, rushing headlong towards death to avenge his sister. But instead, the platinum-blond tactician stood before him, a shoddy bronze sword in one hand, a ragged tome bound in a yellow-dyed cover in the other.

"Tactician!" Gangrel crowed. "Oh how glad I am to see you!" Gangrel smiled cruelly. "I've been wondering, my clever little friend, how did you feel when we outsmarted you in Plegia? When the blasted Pegasus knights you stole from me fell dead, and your oh-so-beloved exalt fell right beside them?"

Robin merely smiled, refusing to rise to the bait, watching as the Plegians crept closer. Silently, he cursed himself, as he just now remembered that his own sword was rather worn. The Shepherds had been given a few new steel swords, and he had given them to Stahl, Frederick, Gaius, and Lon'qu, hoping his old bronze weapon would suffice. Now he wondered how much longer his blade would truly last.

"What's the matter boy?" Gangrel taunted again. "Nothing to say? Seems like you're a rather sore loser." A moment later, Gangrel stepped into range.

Robin reacted immediately. A bolt of lightning soared straight towards the Mad King, and a second one flew towards one of the guards behind him. Even as he launched the two spells, Robin cast the fully expended tome aside and retreated into the fort.

A barrage of throwing axes crashed uselessly against the fort. Robin noted that the second bolt of lightning had slain one of the guards, but somehow, the Mad King seemed unfazed. He drew forth a fire tome, emerging from his cover long enough to fire another round at the Mad King. This time, Robin watched as strange sigils appeared on the Mad King's clothing. The magical runes seemed to counteract the magic, dissipating most of the flames into harmless energy. It left a minor scorch mark, but Gangrel merely sneered and continued stalking towards the fort.

Interesting, Robin mused. The Mad King was shielded from magic, at least partially. Robin dove aside as another axe flew through the entrance of the fort, but he needn't have bothered, for the axe was badly thrown and went wide of its mark to begin with. Then, Robin felt a slight tingling sensation. He recognized it as the feel of a lighting spell gathering, but his thunder tome had been expended.

Robin's eyes widened, surmising the nature of the Mad King's unusual, lightning-bolt shaped blade. But Robin was a second too late. He tried to dive aside, but a web of lightning exploded above him, sending him reeling to the ground, sporting several new burns and temporarily blinded.

He retaliated immediately, guessing that the Plegians would be using the opportunity to charge, and fired off a pair of fireballs towards where he remembered the door would be. His aim wasn't quite perfect, but his timing was excellent, and in the narrow doorway, there was no way for the Plegian warriors to avoid the spells. A second soldier crumbled, writhing in flames and screaming in agony, as a third threw himself to the ground, rolling desperately in an attempt to put out his flaming leg.

The three remaining fighters made to pursue, but suddenly, one of them keeled over, a javelin's head protruding from his chest. The other two spun, and one was immediately impaled on the end of a heavy steel lance. Then, before the other could retaliate, Cordelia ascended quickly, trying to escape the range of the last soldier before he could draw his throwing axe.

A bolt of lightning struck her as she tried to flee. Cordelia cried out in pain, but Catria's innate magical resistance did its work. Some of the spell's power had been counteracted by her steed, and Cordelia managed to hold steady.

"You and your blasted Pegasus knights," Gangrel muttered grimly. The last soldier was standing at the entrance, reluctant to pursue the tactician alone. "Pathetic!" the Mad King spat. He raised his sword, unleashing another blast of lightning, this time aimed at his own soldier who had only managed a single word of protest. The bolt struck the unfortunate guard, who fell dead a moment later.

"No more tricks, tactician!" the Mad King roared, as he stepped into the fortress. Even though it was larger than the others, the interior was really just a simple chamber, sparsely furnished. His gaze swept the room, searching for his foe. "It's just me and you now!"

A sudden rush caught Gangrel's attention, and he snapped his sword out, easily parrying Robin's quick thrust. Undaunted, Robin spun away, then thrust his blade forward again at a different angle. The Mad King only laughed as he casually parried the second blow and launched a measured counterattack. Robin stumbled back, falling away from the thrust. Seeing Gangrel flick his blade upwards, Robin threw himself to the side, just in time to avoid another burst of lightning.

"Where's your precious friends now?" the Mad King taunted, advancing and firing off another burst of lightning. Robin narrowly avoided the bolt and charged again, this time adopting several of the Feroxi sword techniques, with wide sweeping slashes, throwing his weight and momentum behind the attacks whenever possible.

Robin was smaller than Gangrel, but could match his foe's strength. The change in style caught Gangrel off guard, putting him on the defensive for several blows. The skilled tactician quickly gained the upper hand, refusing to allow Gangrel the opportunity to put his devastating lightning sword to use again. Without a shield, Gangrel could only parry with his sword, each move sloppier than the last. Both combatants knew the battle would be over soon. But then, to Robin's supreme disappointment, his sword gave in before Gangrel did, his trusty bronze sword snapping in two.

The Mad King may have been surprised, but he still reacted quickly, and a quick slash drew the first blood of the duel, with Robin falling back only just in time to avoid being decapitated, sustaining only a wicked cut along his shoulder instead.

"Well, that was unfortunate," Robin remarked lightly, as he cast his broken weapon aside. Desperately, he searched for another plan, hoping to find some escape.

"Hah!" the Mad King laughed. "You know, tactician, I actually like you. It's a shame you'd sooner cling to that pitiful princeling even as the boot falls." Gangrel sent his blade into a quick thrust, driving Robin backward again, and another bolt of lightning struck Robin, dropping the tactician to his knees, hair frizzled by the magical energy coursing through him.

"Don't worry," Gangrel said, leering at the fallen tactician. "Your dear Chrom will find his way to your side soon enough."

"I d-doubt it," Robin stuttered, as his jaw twitched, the last vestiges of energy from Gangrel's last attack leaving his body. Then he jumped forward, tackling the Mad King, throwing his foe off balance. He tried to grapple the sword from Gangrel's grip. But Robin was still weakened by the magical barrage, and Gangrel threw him off easily.

Cordelia sprinted into the room, hurling her final javelin at Gangrel, who only narrowly avoided it. She then lifted her lance defensively and began to approach. "Face me!" she demanded fiercely.

The Mad King smiled before obliging, unleashing his lightning magic once more. Cordelia predicted the attack, and timed her forward roll perfectly, avoiding the bolt and thrusting her lance straight at Gangrel's heart. In her later sparring sessions with Robin, Cordelia had started using a longer, lance-shaped pole, and the tactician knew first-hand how hard it was to slip a sword past the woman's carefully placed defenses. Sure enough, Gangrel found himself on the defensive once more, as the lancer's speed and reach drove him back repeatedly.

In a move born of sheer desperation, Gangrel hopped back, trying to put some distance between him and Cordelia, and fired another bolt at her. Seeing the motion, Cordelia quickly stepped aside, and the blast rained down beside her, striking only empty air. She thrust her lance forward, knowing that she could reach Gangrel despite his retreat, but the Mad King was already leaping forward once more. Cordelia's lance bit into his leg, even as he swiped his blade straight down at her head. She retracted her weapon partially, barely parrying the downward blow with the shaft of her lance, but her hasty retreat had left her off balance, and the awkward angle of the parry cost her. Cordelia lost her grip on the lance as she stumbled back, and despite his wound, the Mad King easily kicked the weapon aside. Another bolt of lightning thundered into Cordelia, and she let out a pained yelp as she crumpled to the ground.

Gangrel would have finished her then, but Robin fired a gust of wind from where he had positioned himself, at the edge of the room. A large barrel stood in front of him, leaving him only one direction to move and effectively pinned. The spell, like the others, had been absorbed, only lightly nudging Gangrel. The Mad King rounded on the cornered tactician and leered.

"Nowhere to run, maggot," Gangrel said, laughing diabolically. "Any last words, tactician?" His expression drooped slightly when he realized Robin was still staring at him coolly, wearing a confident smile.

"Just one," Robin answered flippantly, with the air of knowing something that his opponent did not.

Another burst of wind soared out, not at the Mad King, but at the barrel standing beside him. The barrel was propelled towards Gangrel, who instinctively swung his sword forward. To the mighty king's credit, the heavy barrel was cleanly split, the two halves deflected, falling to his sides. But as the sword bit into the barrel, the lantern oil kept within the barrel sprayed out, soaking the Mad King's garb, and gushing forth into a pool around his feet.

"Checkmate!" Robin announced.

Immediately after launching the barrel into the air, Robin had drawn his other tome and loosed two fireballs. One at Gangrel, and a second at the pool by his feet, in case the first was countered, and the remaining energy too weak to ignite the oil. The second shot proved unnecessary, for the remaining sparks of the diffused spell proved sufficient, igniting the oil and immolating the Mad King, who collapsed, roaring in pain as the flames consumed him.

Moments later, all that remained of the Mad King was a charred skeleton and a partially melted sword, broken and crackling with the escaping magic.

The Second Plegian War was over.

The reign of the Mad King had come to an end.

* * *

Together, Robin and Cordelia emerged wearily from the fort and climbed aboard Catria, who obediently flew them towards the other Shepherds. Upon seeing the pair leave the fort, the Plegian captain holding the line realized the war was over. He called out his surrender to the Shepherds who still had them pinned them within the forts. Their casualties were few; Prince Chrom himself had joined the Shepherd cavalry once he noticed Cordelia and Robin attacking the wyverns, and the Shepherds were content to keep the Plegians pinned in the fortress.

Similarly, on the far side of the battlefield, the Plegians hidden in the forts had surrendered upon seeing the enemy commander's acts of kindness towards their fallen comrades. They had been disarmed, but were otherwise unharmed, and were being escorted to their surviving allies. On the horizon, the Feroxi army had appeared. Two prominent figures were making their way down the hill to join the Shepherds – Khan Flavia and Khan Basilio.

"That was actually pretty anti-climactic," Chrom observed, as Virion and the other Shepherds rejoined Frederic. Together, they watched Robin and Cordelia approaching from the south, and the two Feroxi khans approaching from the east. Chrom had only battled two of the Plegian soldiers throughout the entire battle. Most of the Shepherds' had similar stories to tell.

"After the amount of time you and Robin invested into coming up with this plan, it seems only fair, milord," Frederick remarked.

"Actually," Chrom replied with a grimace, as he watched Cordelia's Pegasus touch down a short distance away. "I think Robin made this plan up on the spot. Or at least, he changed it unilaterally… I don't think any of the plans he had called for him to face the Mad King himself." He raised his voice as he spoke, to ensure the tactician would overhear.

"I don't think so, either," Robin admitted with a wry grin. "But it turned out to be a good idea after all, seeing as none of our plans accounted for Gangrel's sword being able to spit lightning."

"A sword that spits lightning?" Chrom asked, confused.

"A Levin sword," Anna explained brightly, having rejoined them after the battle. Despite her own skills with the blade, she seemed content to remain with the supply caravans. "They're not too common but if you want one, I'll see if I can scrounge one up."

"No thanks," Robin refused politely. "I think I've seen enough weapons to last me a good long while." As he spoke, Lissa raced to his side, mending the gash along his shoulder and some of the more severe lightning-burns. "Thanks, Lissa," Robin said gratefully.

"No problem," the princess replied with a smile, turning her attention to Cordelia. "Wait, King Gangrel is gone, right?"

"Burnt to a crisp," Cordelia confirmed, shooting the princess a grateful look as the healing magic did its work.

"The war's over," Robin added, nodding.

Chrom frowned, resting his eyes on the beleaguered Plegian prisoners and the numerous dead that littered the battlefield. He thought of Emmeryn, of Mustafa, and of the countless innocents of each country involved that had suffered. "We've won, but somehow, I don't feel like celebrating."

"Victory can be bitter as well as sweet, boy. It's good you learn that now," Basilio said sagely.

"Ferox lost many good soldiers today. We, too, must see to our dead. Then it will be time to attend to the living and rebuild our army," Flavia said.

Chrom winced, having forgotten the other two battles that had been fought. The messenger had indicated that the Plegian armies had collapsed, but only now did Chrom had time to think and realize that even a few minutes of chaos would've ended many lives on each side. The Shepherds had escaped without loss, but how many brave Ylissean villagers had marched to the Border Pass, not knowing they would never return home? How many Feroxi warriors had perished, fighting on their behalf? "I'm sorry, Flavia," Chrom apologized. "Your sacrifice will not be forgotten. Ylisse will do our best to compensate your nation however we can."

"Oh? In that case, how about you hand over the Fire Emblem?" Flavia asked. She burst out laughing at Chrom's shocked expression. "Just a little Feroxi humor," she said, still chuckling slightly. "Don't worry about our finances, Chrom. Reparations will fall to Plegia. Gangrel was quite the hoarder, and Plegia has quite the treasury."

"Pity the man who stands between Flavia and a full coffer, boy," Basilio cautioned, a bit ominously.

"Fair enough," Chrom admitted. "But Plegia has been devastated too. We must be reasonable in our demands, less we create more suffering and set the stage for yet another war."

"We'll work things out," Flavia assured. "Our messenger is delivering our terms now to the capital. Once a new regent is chosen, we can put an end to this bloody business, once and for all."

Just then, a flapping noise announced the arrival of the Shepherd's other Pegasus rider. After they had seen the wyvern's fall, Frederick had directed Sumia to scout out the area. Robin had warned the eternally wary knight of Aversa and the threat of the undead, and if the Grimleal was returning, Frederick wanted to be ready. But Aversa was either truly gone, or very good at hiding, as there was still no sign of her.

Ricken disembarked shakily, enjoying the sensation of solid ground beneath his feet. Sumia, on the other hand, found her footing immediately and rushed towards her beloved captain.

"Captain!" she cried out.

"Sumia?" Chrom asked, surprised. "Where were you?"

Ignoring the question, Sumia rushed forward, embracing Chrom tightly. "Captain, you're safe!"

"Hah! Give these two some room!" Flavia said with a laugh, as she strolled away. Most of the others nearby followed suit, but Robin was transfixed upon the sight. Now that he thought about it, the signs were pretty obvious – Sumia had cared deeply for Chrom since the first day he met her, and Chrom did always seem to have a soft spot for the brunette.

As the shock faded slightly, he turned, fearing the worst. Cordelia was looking downwards at her feet, wearing a blank expression. A hint of sorrow showed through her eyes, and Robin knew it wasn't from her wounds. He had expected as much, but that didn't stop pained sympathy from creeping into his own heart.

As he watched, Cordelia turned and walked away. Robin turned back to the couple and backed away slowly, giving them some privacy.

"Sumia… you're… choking… me…" Chrom gasped, out of breath.

"Are you hurt? You look exhausted!" Sumia said frantically, loosening her hold slightly.

As Chrom caught his breath, tears sprung to Sumia's eyes. She began to stammer an apology, but Chrom interrupted her quickly.

"Come on, don't cry, Sumia. We won. It's over now," Chrom said reassuringly. He then returned Sumia's embrace. "Don't apologize. I've been so worried about everyone else lately. You have no idea how much it means to me to have someone worry about me like this."

The two held each other for a moment longer. Then Chrom reached into his pocket, and brought forth a small box. Robin's eyes widened in surprise – he naturally didn't remember too much about marriage traditions, but it still felt rather spontaneous to him. He hastily stepped away, not wanting to intrude upon his friends' special moment.

He didn't hear Chrom's proposal, but he couldn't have missed Sumia's joyous answer.


	13. Epilogue: Triumphant Return

**Epilogue: Triumphant Return**

The Shepherds returned to Ylisstol a week later. Chrom had asked the khans to return with him as well. Both had agreed, and travelled along with the Shepherds. They set a leisurely pace; for the first time since the Shepherds set off towards Regna Ferox to negotiate an alliance, there was no reason to hurry.

The march back to Ylisse was enjoyable for most. Fresh from their latest victory, the Shepherds had returned to their comfortable routines, enjoying their meals together and sharing tales, recounting their triumphs, and sparring with one another lightheartedly. Chrom and Sumia had not announced their engagement yet, but many of the Shepherds must have suspected it already, as the two now spent most of their day together, whether in dismal shared attempts at cooking, reminiscing of the past, or simply imagining their future together.

Several of the Shepherds were rather amused when, at last, one of their number succumbed to Virion's philandering antics. Of course, he had been rather subtle about it this time, and every Shepherd was rather surprised to see Virion join Olivia in one of her dances. Outside of her dancing, Olivia was spectacularly shy, but somehow, she was surprisingly comfortable around Virion, and the two danced gracefully together, entertaining the other Shepherds. Even crusty old Basilio found himself impressed.

Robin had tried to reach out to Cordelia, but his friend was clearly not ready to speak. She had been avoiding him ever since they left the Border Wastes. After a few failed attempts, Robin decided it was best to give the woman some space.

Besides, Robin found himself preoccupied. Lissa had noticed a bit of glumness in him, and had taken it upon herself to cheer him up, and several unfortunate frogs had mysteriously found their way into his torn robes one morning. Only upon removing the amphibians did Robin realize the state of his clothing. He sought out Gaius, bribing the rogue into patching them with his portion of that evening's dessert.

And so the journey went, the victorious heroes filling the pleasurable days with little, simple everyday things, as the Shepherds made their way home.

* * *

Their mood dampened considerably upon arriving in Ylisstol. As the castle came into view, the excitement of victory had worn off. Exalt Emmeryn was gone, and Prince Chrom would have to ascend to the throne. The kingdom had been ravaged by war. The arduous task of rebuilding would begin immediately, but winter was just a few short months away.

On top of that, they received messengers from the Feroxi army that had returned to the north, indicating that the risen remained, as did the remaining bandits that had taken to living in the wild. Refugees from a razed village were set upon by the undead as they made their way to their neighboring town, and saved only by the intervention of the homebound Feroxi army. The Ylissean armies in the south sent word as well; as Chrom had feared, they had suffered many losses at the Border Pass despite the short and one-sided battle. It was a grim reminder that rebuilding the peace would not be easy.

It was almost enough to change Chrom's mind about his announcement. But Robin recognized his friend's fears, and insisted that a bit of bright news was desperately needed. And so, the day after they returned to the castle, Prince Chrom announced his engagement to Sumia. He also officially accepted the throne, succeeding his sister, but forswore the title of exalt. Chrom declared the wedding to be held in only a week, in deference to the khans, who were naturally both invited. The khans were needed back in their own kingdom, but neither wanted to miss such a grand occasion. Both announcements brightened the mood considerably, for both Chrom's companions and the Ylissean populace.

As the wedding preparations began, many of the Shepherds began to consider their own futures. Several of them had been Ylissean knights to begin with, and clearly intended to remain at Chrom's side during the reconstruction. Stahl, Sully, Kellam, Vaike, and Frederick returned to their training immediately, knowing they would have to be at their best until new recruits and guards had been trained. Donnel had remained as well, deciding that his kingdom needed him more than his village.

Olivia and Lon'qu would be returning to Ferox with the khans after the wedding, although Lon'qu swore, in a surprisingly eloquent show of fealty, to stand by Chrom should the future exalt ever have need of his blade. Gregor expressed interest in returning to Ferox, having apparently spent some time there before, and Flavia pounced upon the opportunity, claiming her new champion for the next tournament. Virion, too, asked to accompany the Feroxi home after the wedding, as did Nowi, filled with childlike eagerness at the thought of the exciting happenings and new experiences.

Miriel returned to her study, bearing her new title of royal consultant. Robin thought at first that Chrom would lay the title of hierarch upon the scholarly woman, but he supposed the betrayal of the last hierarch must still have stung. Ricken joined her in the study as her assistant, while furthering his own studies. More surprisingly, Tharja asked to remain as well, offering her knowledge of dark magic. Apparently, she was none too attached to Plegia, and had no interest in the reconstruction of her own homeland.

Libra planned to return to the church of Naga, the divine dragon, in Ylisstol. Most of his brothers and sisters within the order had perished on the road in their attempt to aid the exalt, and Libra willingly shouldered the responsibility of rebuilding his order.

Chrom offered Captain Phila's post to Cordelia. She had been among the most competent of the Pegasus knights to begin with, and was the only survivor among them now. The woman did not accept the post immediately, to Chrom and Sumia's surprise, and asked for some time to consider it.

Maribelle and Lissa, of course, remained in the castle with Chrom. To Maribelle's annoyance, they were joined by Gaius. Chrom had asked Gaius to stay, in deference to the thief's understanding of security, and the rogue graciously agreed. Anna insisted on staying as well, and set up shop within the castle grounds, bringing exotic goods to Ylisstol. Chrom didn't truly believe her story about the many sisters with the same appearance, name, and profession, until one morning when he found three of Anna's sisters at the makeshift market stall, each of them introducing herself as "Anna, the Secret Seller." They really did look identical.

That left Robin, wondering about his own place in all this. Strangely enough, though he was clearly welcome, and hailed as the hero who had dealt the final blow to the Mad King on top of the laurels he had already earned as the legendary strategist and tactician, Ylisstol didn't feel much like home. Besides, what use did Ylisse have for a tactician now that the war was over?

But, three days before the wedding, Chrom summoned Robin to his side, with two surprising requests.

"Will you by my best man?" Chrom asked, as Robin approached the throne. Robin's eyes widened.

"Best man? Wouldn't Frederick be more suitable?" Robin asked, shocked. "He's been at your side all your life, and I've known you for only a couple months."

"Those couple months were among the hardest of my life," Chrom explained. "And you were there for me throughout it. Even though it hasn't been long, already I feel as if I've known you forever, and besides, how many times have I placed my life in your hands?"

"I guess for me, it really has been forever," Robin remarked. "But what about Frederick?"

"Frederick would refuse," Chrom said. "It's not an appropriate appearance for his station as a knight, no matter how close we truly are. And besides, Frederick would agree that you have earned this honor."

"I… alright then, I guess," Robin said. "Thank you."

Then Chrom laid an even more surprising request on Robin. "Also, if you're willing, I'd like to make you Ylisse's hierarch."

Robin's eyes widened. "Chrom, I don't know the slightest thing about ruling a country, I'd be a terrible hierarch."

"You can't be worse than the last hierarch," Chrom said with a smile. "I have faith in you. You've never truly let me down before. Even when… even when Emmeryn was captured, you still got us further than any of us could have imagined, and helped us escape with our lives."

"I… I'll have to think about it," Robin said weakly, not entirely sure what to make of the offer.

"Alright. Nonetheless, take that with you," Chrom said, gesturing towards a small wooden coffer on the table. Robin opened it, and his jaw dropped when he found the coffer full of gold coins. Before he could protest, Chrom explained, "Don't worry – we can afford it. The messengers have returned from Plegia's new king, a man named Validar, and he seems quite agreeable thus far. And Flavia was right, Plegia does have quite the treasury, enough to rebuild all three of our kingdoms with a few fortunes leftover. This is the Shepherds thanks for your service these past months. If you do find yourself walking a different road, we owe it to you to support you however we can."

Robin shook his head, trying to find the words to reject the generous offering, but Chrom forestalled his protests. "Please, Robin. It's not as much as you think, certainly not considering what you have done for all of us."

"A-Alright," Robin stammered, closing the lid of the heavy coffer and lifting it. "Thank you, Prince."

"Chrom," the Ylissean sovereign corrected. "I've never been much for formalites, remember?"

* * *

The wedding ceremony itself was extravagant and beautiful. Robin felt rather uncomfortable, present in a fancy nobleman's outfit that Frederick had insisted he wear. But no one looked or felt more uncomfortable than Chrom himself. Part of it was the nervousness, which Frederick assured every man claimed to feel on his wedding day. But part of it was guilt, relating to the enormous expense of the wedding, with a difficult winter closing in for Ylisse. "It's not for you," Robin reminded. "It's for the people, a joyous occasion to remind them that our future is bright." That set Chrom at ease a little, but only a little.

Sumia had chosen her best friend from childhood, Cordelia, as a bridesmaid. To Robin's surprise and relief, Cordelia seemed to be quite cheerful. It had been days since he'd last seen her, but now she looked as pleased as anyone else in the audience, happy to take part in her best friend's beautiful day. The ceremony went off without a hitch, without anyone tripping or stuttering over their lines.

Then the feast began, and the Ylissean chefs and pastry artisans put on their best show to impress the nobles and the visiting khans. As Chrom and Sumia made their way through the crowd, each of the guests greeted and congratulated the happy couple as they enjoyed the fabulous food and drink that crowded every table in the great banquet hall.

An hour later, Robin's collar began to itch, and the air of excitement began to feel stifling. The food had been appetizing, but he found that he wasn't really hungry despite not eating at all that day. Somehow, he just felt out of place here. It wasn't that he was alone – some of the Shepherds waved to him as they passed, others sat down to talk, and plenty of the Ylissean nobles were fascinated with the tactician and begged for tales of the war. More than one of them even offered him a career in political consulting, offers that Robin rejected graciously. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Tharja staring straight at him. He was well-liked, and could certainly live a good life here, but somehow, he still felt like something was missing.

It was then that he noticed Cordelia leaving. The beautiful bridesmaid had casually made her way across the banquet hall, around the edges, without disturbing the other guests, and Robin turned just in time to see her step out. He clashed with his own thoughts for a moment. He no longer entertained any romantic notions regarding Cordelia. Not because he didn't like the woman; a sense of longing still nested in his heart. But Cordelia didn't need any more emotional complications right now, Robin knew. She needed a friend she could talk to.

Robin shrugged, his heart heavy, as he, too, rose to his feet and quietly excused himself. Robin didn't know if Cordelia would be ready to talk. But if he wanted to call himself her friend, at the very least, he had to try. With that decided, Robin made his way to the door.

He found himself accosted by the princess herself, just as he stepped into the quiet hallway.

"Where are you going?" Lissa asked suspiciously. "It's a wedding, Robin! People don't leave weddings early!"

Robin shrugged. "I just need to get some air."

Lissa rolled her eyes. "Oh come on, mister gloomy pants. You're turning into Frederick. It's time to relax a little and goof off! You can be all serious later."

"I thought you liked Frederick," Robin remarked lightly, as he set off, wondering where Cordelia could have gone. He then realized, he still didn't really know his way around the castle very well. Thankfully, Lissa was following him, so at least he would be able to make his way back later.

Lissa rolled her eyes again. "I do like Frederick, but I can only stand one Frederick in my life. If you start ignoring all my pranks too, I'll probably die of boredom. Nobody else does that rubbery thing with their face like you do."

"Rubbery thing?" Robin asked, confused. "I do a rubbery thing with my face?"

"Uh-huh," Lissa confirmed. When Robin didn't say anything further, she realized something much heavier was weighing upon her dear friend. "What are you really doing out here, Robin?" she asked, noting that the tactician was looking around every corner, searching for something.

"I was hoping to find Cordelia," Robin admitted, absentmindedly. "She looked a bit upset, seeing Chrom getting married to her best friend and all, and I thought she might want to talk about it."

Lissa looked confused. "Why would she be upset about that?"

"Wasn't it you and Sumia who were telling me about how big of a crush she had on Chrom?" Robin reminded, a harsh edge creeping into his voice.

"Yeah… but that was a long time ago. And I guess while she was a Pegasus knight. And I don't know if she ever really loved him," Lissa admitted. "She was just infatuated, I think. She never even found the courage to talk to Chrom when we were little. She didn't really know him at all. Years ago, she used to talk about Chrom all the time, but she's barely talked about him since she joined the Shepherds."

Just then, Robin spotted the lovelorn Pegasus knight, sitting alone out in the training yard. "Sure looks like she's over him," he commented wryly. Lissa frowned, wondering if she should say something, but Robin didn't wait for an answer, and slowly made his way across the yard, over to where Cordelia was sitting.

Cordelia didn't even seem to notice the platinum-blond tactician approach. "What does she have that I don't?" Cordelia quietly mumbled to herself. But Robin was close enough to overhear, and shot Lissa a sad look before sitting down besides Cordelia, startling her. "Robin? What are you doing here?" Cordelia asked, surprised to see him appear suddenly by her side.

"You looked pretty upset. I thought you might like someone to talk to," Robin offered quietly.

Cordelia turned, noting Lissa's silent arrival. "I'm fine," she said shortly. "Sorry to worry you."

"You're not fine," Robin said with a heavy sigh. "You haven't been yourself since we killed Gangrel. Since you saw Sumia run up to Chrom that day. It was pretty unexpected, after all."

"It was?" Cordelia asked, with a frown. "I thought everyone already knew Sumia had feelings for him. And you said…" she began, but she paused, seemingly unable to complete the thought.

"Well, even if you knew, it doesn't make it hurt any less, does it?" Robin asked kindly. Cordelia remained silent.

Lissa groaned. She couldn't help it. Her friends were both really quite oblivious. She found it quite cute, but they definitely needed a nudge in the right direction. "Cordelia, Robin thinks you're still pining after Chrom."

At that, Cordelia turned and looked at Robin blankly.

"You aren't?" Robin asked, returning the blank expression. When Cordelia shook her head, he was more confused than ever. "Wait, then… okay, I think I missed a turn in this conversation somewhere. What has you so upset if it isn't Chrom?"

"I… I saw how you looked at her, back at the Border Wastes," Cordelia stammered. Then she fell silent.

"Her?" Robin found himself completely bewildered. He racked his mind frantically, trying to figure out just who he was supposedly looking at, and why it would bother Cordelia in the slightest.

After several moments of awkward silence, Robin put the pieces together, and clarity dawned upon him at last. He remembered his own cryptic riddle, the source of this miscommunication, and groaned at his own obliviousness. This wasn't about Chrom, after all.

Cordelia's eyes widened, as she began to understand Robin's evasive answers and strange behavior over the past few days. "You… you weren't talking about Sumia?" Cordelia asked hesitantly, but in a hopeful tone. "You thought _I_ was in love with someone else? With Chrom?"

Robin tried to put his thoughts into words for several heartbeats, but the sudden surge of emotion made it difficult. Finally, he settled for wrapping his arms around the surprised woman in a tight embrace, his lips brushing against hers.

Cordelia, shocked, remained still for a moment, before returning his kiss passionately. When they separated a few seconds later, a rather awkward expression had made its way onto Robin's face. He could still feel his heart pounding. He turned to see Lissa beaming at them both.

"Everything sorted out now?" Lissa asked brightly. Cordelia and Robin both nodded numbly. "Great. Let's head back to the party then. Maybe the dancing isn't over yet."

"I don't remember how to dance," Robin protested.

"I'll show you," Cordelia offered, leaning forward and tugging at his arm insistently. Robin didn't really need much convincing.

"Well, alright then," Robin said with a shaky smile. The couple stood and followed Lissa back into the great hall, hand in hand.

* * *

The food and drinks had only just been set aside, the tables pushed to the walls, and most of the guests were already dancing when they returned.

It was a rather amusing sight to behold, especially for the noblemen spectators who were accustomed to grand celebrations. Some of the dancers were clearly too drunk to remain standing for long. Flavia and Basilio held their liquor rather well, but the Feroxi style of dance was faster paced, with many sharp turns and movements, and clashed terribly with the elegant steps of the Ylisseans. Virion and Olivia, on the other hand, were practically a work-of-art with their carefully rehearsed and delicate movements. The two had even worked a sword into their dance routine, flipping and passing the weapon back and forth gracefully.

To Robin's amusement, Lissa managed to drag Frederick onto the dance floor. Though his face remained stoic, there was no trace of his usual stern, tense demeanor. Frederick actually seemed to be enjoying himself for once.

Sumia and Chrom were there as well, and when Sumia spotted Cordelia and Robin together, her expression became one of pure delight. For a moment, it looked like she was ready to stop dancing and race over to hug and congratulate her best friend, but Chrom didn't seem ready for their dance to end quite yet.

The first few steps were rather awkward for Robin, but he was a quick learner, and soon he found himself following Cordelia's lead gracefully. As he noted the serene expression on her face, he realized that even though Ylisstol still didn't quite feel like home, the strange, hollow feeling had left his heart.

* * *

Robin awoke rather late the next morning. It was actually rather nice to wake up in a soft bed each morning, covered in warm sheets, he thought. But something about it still felt a little unfamiliar, after all the evenings he spent in tents on the road.

When they returned to Ylisstol, Chrom had ordered a room set aside for each of the Shepherds. The room was far more inviting than the rooms Flavia had offered them back in Plegia, on that first journey. It even had a tub of water for bathing. "It almost feels too luxurious," Robin remarked, as he cleaned himself off.

Now that the wedding was over, he was reminded of Chrom's offer from a few days before. The feeling of awkwardness during the wedding confirmed his uneasiness about getting embroiled in politics, but Chrom certainly deserved an answer. And even if he was uncomfortable here in the castle, Robin still hoped he could assist Chrom in rebuilding Ylisse.

An idea formed in his head as he dried himself and donned his normal clothing and robe, and he set off for the throne room.

* * *

As he made his way towards the throne room, he was joined by Cordelia. He blushed slightly, remembering the dancing from the night before, and their kiss in the training yard. "Good morning, Cordelia," Robin said with a smile.

To his relief, her expression mirrored his. "Good morning," she said warmly. "Where are you headed?"

"I need to see Chrom," he said. "He made me an offer a few days ago and I think I'm finally ready to answer."

Cordelia nodded, understanding immediately. "I should probably do the same," she admitted.

"You'd make a great captain," Robin remarked lightly. "No one handles a Pegasus quite like you do." Cordelia shrugged, and seemed lost in her own thoughts, and Robin decided it was best to leave her to her thoughts a little longer.

When they arrived at the throne room, only Miriel, Chrom, and Sumia waited within. Chrom was finally sitting upon his throne, and a smaller throne had been added at his side for his beloved wife. Miriel sat at the conference table, which had been moved back to the side of the room. There was no sign of the cots that Sumia had dragged in there before, Robin noted, ruefully remembering the time he had spent essentially living in this room. Cordelia politely waited at the door, motioning for Robin to enter first, but Sumia had spotted them and gestured enthusiastically to them both, bidding them to approach together.

"I can't believe it!" she said excitedly, as Robin and Cordelia stepped closer, abashed. "You two are so adorable together!"

"Good morning, Robin," Chrom greeted, a wide smile on his own face. "You enjoyed the evening, I hope?"

"I did," Robin admitted. "Thank you."

"So, did you make a decision?" Chrom asked, correctly guessing the reason for the tactician's visit. Sumia and Cordelia both looked at them curiously – apparently, Chrom had kept the offer to his tactician friend private.

"Maybe," Robin replied. "But Chrom, you know what I am. I'm a tactician, a swordsman, and I dabble in magic. None of that will guide you in ruling a kingdom at peace. I would make a terrible hierarch."

Sumia and Cordelia's eyes both widened as they understood the offer Chrom had made. "Robin, you have everything it takes to make a good hierarch. You have my trust, and the trust of my friends and our people," Chrom reminded gently. "You hold a love for the Ylissean people, even though you yourself might not even be from Ylisse. And, if you accept the post, I'm sure you would be as determined as always to help however you can."

"The hierarch is a political position, first and foremost," Robin protested.

"Our last hierarch was a political man," Chrom corrected. "And look where that got us. If you don't feel comfortable with it, I won't push you, but I don't expect you to become anyone else if you accept the position. You'll still be Robin, our brave friend and tactician, and you would be perfectly welcome to do whatever you think is best for our kingdom."

Robin smiled slightly. Maybe Chrom's offer and his intended counter-offer could be one and the same. "What will become of the Shepherds?" Robin asked. Chrom looked startled by the seemingly abrupt change in subject. "Ylisse will still need them, with the risen and bandits on the loose," Robin explained.

"I hadn't thought of that," Chrom admitted, looking uneasy. "See, this is why I need a hierarch," he added with a self-deprecating laugh. "I need someone with a good head on his shoulders to keep me from overlooking the obvious."

Robin nodded, silently accepting the compliment. "I know it's a lot to ask, but as you probably can't lead the Shepherds yourself any longer, at least for the time being… may I have the honor of leading the Shepherds in your place? As hierarch, captain, tactician, or whatever other title you would lay upon me."

"Done," Chrom said without hesitation. "Hierarch Robin, I leave the Shepherds in your care," he said, with a dramatic air. At his side, Sumia giggled at the mock formality, and pretty soon, all of them were laughing, even Miriel, who had been eyeing them curiously from the side. "Thank you, Robin," Chrom added, in his normal voice, as the laughter subsided. "I'm not too cut out for this job either, to be honest."

"You're welcome," Robin said quietly. "And thank you for the offer. To be honest I had been wondering about my own future for some time now, and this makes things way simpler."

"No matter what, you'll always be one of us," Chrom assured. Then he turned to Cordelia. "What about you, Cordelia? Have you made a decision? I still think Captain Phila would have been proud to have you as her successor."

Cordelia glanced at Robin. Then, after a few seconds, she shook her head. "I'm sorry, milord. It's kind of you to offer, but I don't think I'm ready."

"Cordelia, you're the best Pegasus knight in all of Ylisse," Sumia protested. "And you're an amazing teacher too – most of what I know about Pegasi was stuff you taught me years ago when we were little. And my flying only improved when you joined us. You're as ready as anyone could ever be!"

"That's not what I mean," Cordelia clarified, shaking her head. "I don't think I'm ready to leave the Shepherds yet. When I found the Shepherds, I found my friends again, and a real family. And maybe something more," she added, with another shy glance at Robin, who smiled. "So I'd rather stay with the Shepherds for now," she concluded.

Sumia's expression seemed to melt at her words. Chrom smiled and nodded acceptingly, then turned to Robin. "I can't believe you. You've been hierarch for less than five minutes and your first act is to steal our best candidate for a new captain of the Pegasus knights?" he said, with a laugh.

"I humbly apologize. It won't happen again, milord," Robin said, mimicking Chrom's dramatic, formal flair from a moment earlier. All the friends shared another laugh.

"We'll notify all the Shepherds that remain," Chrom said finally. "We'll announce Robin's appointment formally tonight. In the barracks, I think, since that would be more appropriate. In the meantime, you both should relax while you can. You know how busy a Shepherd's life can be." Robin turned to leave, but Cordelia, to his surprise, seemed to have something more to say. He shot her a questioning look.

"Actually, I wanted another word with our prince and queen," she admitted. "I'll see you later, Robin."

"Alright. See you later," the hierarch answered, stepping out of the throne room, wondering whether he'd bitten off more than he could chew. Chrom had always been an inspiring leader to the Shepherds, holding their unwavering loyalty, but Chrom had a country to rule. They would just have to settle for an amnesiac tactician, it seemed.

* * *

"Robin needs a new weapon," Cordelia said, once the tactician had departed.

The story of the Mad King's enchanted Levin sword and magic-resistant clothing, and Robin's clever ploy with the lantern oil had spread far and wide, embellished with each telling, until it became a legend of its own. While the part where Robin's shoddy weapon had yielded to Gangrel's might made the story more exciting for the bards, Chrom hadn't been too pleased when he heard his best friend had nearly died to something as simple as carrying an inferior, damaged weapon. "Definitely," Chrom agreed.

"We could ask Anna," Sumia proposed. "She said she might be able to find a Levin sword, remember? That could be fitting."

"Robin can use magic without an enchanted sword," Cordelia remarked. "I think he'd prefer a more conventional weapon."

"Hmm… it wouldn't be anything extravagant, but you could check our armory," Chrom offered. "I know it's not much, but there were a couple weapons that looked too rusty to use. Maybe we could find a smith and have one of them reforged. I would commission a brand new weapon for him, but Miriel informed me earlier today that we are suffering from a shortage of metal right now." Chrom glanced deferentially at the mage, who was now poring over large charts and spreadsheets.

"That will work," Cordelia said, nodding. "Thank you. I'll go take a look and let you know if I find something suitable."

Chrom shook his head. "Take whatever you need," he said graciously. "And some coin to pay the smith. By the way, do me a favor and look after Robin for me. Sometimes, I worry that he isn't taking care of himself."

"I'm pretty sure he learned that from you," Sumia teased, poking Chrom gently.

* * *

Most of the weapons in the armory were in rather bad condition, but Cordelia did find a silver sword that seemed promising. It looked like a stock weapon, but it was in fairly good condition. Strangely enough, the hilt was more worn than the blade, indicating it had probably been used as a ceremonial weapon. Most Ylissean soldiers didn't care for their weapons particularly well, and wear and tear along their blades built up quickly.

With the sword in one hand and a small pouch of gold that Miriel had given her in the other, she set off to the blacksmith's shop nearest to the castle. The blacksmith there had lent her the forge before when she was creating javelins. Cordelia knew she wasn't an expert smith, but still, she found the thought of re-forging Robin's blade herself rather appealing.

She ended up spending the bulk of the afternoon working on the sword, reshaping the blade slightly and Some of the gold was spent on the new leather grip and the small, flawless ruby that she had encrusted into the weapon's pommel. Finally, she had quickly carved a small seal and with it, added an inscription on the guard: Eternity.

She traded the rest of the gold to the smith for a fine, decorated leather scabbard. Then, noting that the sun was beginning to set, she thanked the smith again and set off for the castle barracks.

* * *

Several of the Shepherds were gathered in the barracks already when Cordelia made her entrance. The knights: Kellam, Sully, Stahl, and Frederick, were in attendance of course, as were Vaike and Donnel. To Cordelia's surprise, Lissa, Maribelle, Ricken, and Gaius were also present. Chrom was standing easily near the wall, with an uncomfortable Robin standing beside him.

Upon seeing Cordelia, Chrom stepped forward and clapped loudly, quickly gaining the attention of everyone in the room. The Shepherds instantly fell silent.

"Hey everyone," he began informally. "I called you all here to thank you once again. Without all of your help, even those who have returned to their own lives and thus aren't with us tonight, we could never have come as far as we have. But I'm afraid I have a kingdom to attend to now." A chorus of soft laughter rang out at that last remark.

Chrom continued with a smile. "Even though the Plegian threat is ended, I'm sure you've heard of the risen and bandits still plaguing our people. The kingdom still needs its Shepherds. Since I won't be able to lead the Shepherds myself, I came here to make a few last announcements. Lissa, Maribelle, Ricken, and Gaius will be joining you on the road once more, rather than staying in the castle as initially planned. Cordelia, too, has chosen to remain with the Shepherds."

Chrom gestured for Robin to join him, and the tactician stepped forward with a nervous smile.

"Finally, Robin has been named the new hierarch of Ylisse. But he will remain by your side, leading in my stead," Chrom explained. To Robin's relief, every Shepherd gathered shot him encouraging looks. Robin waved hesitantly to his friends, as Chrom gestured for Lissa and Cordelia to approach.

Lissa was carrying a large package wrapped in dark cloth. She laid the package down on a nearby table and unwrapped it, revealing a suit of light armor crafted from thin gold-leafed plates. Beside it, Cordelia laid down Eternity.

"Your new sword and armor," Chrom explained with a smile, seeing Robin's startled expression.

Robin stepped forward and examined the gifts. The new armor and weapon seemed oddly familiar to him. The armor was of undeniably fine make, custom-tailored for him. Just looking at it, he knew it would fit him perfectly, and could be worn underneath his robe. The sword was remarkably beautiful, and he drew it from the sheath, inspecting the gleaming silver blade with awe.

"T-Thank you," Robin stammered to Chrom. Then he turned to the other Shepherds. "Thank you all for trusting me, and for giving me this chance. I know I may never be as great a leader as Chrom was, but I promise, I will do everything I can to make him, and all of you, proud."

At that, there was a round of cheering. Chrom nodded approvingly before stepping out, leaving the Shepherds to their celebration, as Vaike dragged out a large keg of wine and a large basket of leftovers from the feast the night before. For hours, they drank and they ate, and they told stories of the memories they shared, both good and bad.

Robin wasn't much of a drinker. He sat near the edge of the room, swirling a glass of wine that he had barely touched, but it was clear he was as happy as anyone else in the room. As the night grew late, some of the Shepherds began to filter out, congratulating Robin one more time. Some of the Shepherds had simply passed out after a particularly competitive drinking contest.

Cordelia gestured to him as she, too, got up to leave, clearly wanting Robin to follow. Robin smiled and stood as well, but took one look around the room before he left. None of the discomfort he had felt upon returning to the capital remained.

Robin had found a home and future, after all.


End file.
